CALIf. 


THE    MORAL 
IMBECILES 

By  SARAH  P.  McL.  GREENE 
Author  of  "Vesty  of  the  Basins" 


NEW     YORK     AND     LONDON 

HARPER     &     BROTHERS     PUBLISHERS 

1898 


BY   SARAH   P.  McL.  GREENE. 


STUART   AND   BAMBOO.      A   Novel.      Post  8vo, 
Cloth,  Ornamental,  $1  25. 

A  quaint  story  abounding  in  humor  and  pathos.— 
Minneapolis  Tribune. 

There  are  rare  flashes  of  fun,  touches  of  the  ridiculous 
and  bizarre  that  provoke  to  laughter,  mingled  with  the 
real  feeling  and  pathos  underlying  the  story,  which  is 
worth  reading  for  its  ingenious  originality,  its  swift 
transitions,  and  the  vivid  scene  painting  it  presents. — 
Detroit  Free  Press. 

VESTY  OF  THE  BASINS.     A  Novel.     Post  8vo, 
Cloth,  $1  25. 

One  of  the  sweetest,  freshest  of  novels.  .  .  .  There  are 
scenes  of  humor  and  of  pathos. — Philadelphia  Bulletin. 

It  is  a  work  of  real  genius — strong,  true,  brave,  and 
tender.  It  is  a  story  to  be  read  and  remembered.  — 
Newark  Advertiser. 

NEW    YORK  AND    LONDON: 
HARPER  &   BROTHERS,  PUBLISHERS. 


Copyright,  1898,  by  HARPER  &  BROTBKM. 

All  rightt  rttentd. 


THE  MORAL  IMBECILES 


2061724 


THE  MORAL   IMBECILES 


CHAPTER  I 

"DARLING!" 

No  one  had  ever  called  me  "  darling  "  be- 
fore. I  turned,  wonderingly. 

"  I  do  not  know  how  to  answer  a  single 
question,"  she  whispered.  Her  face  bore  the 
intellectual  stamp  of  generations,  so  thought- 
ful as  even  to  be  tinged  with  melancholy. 
She  smiled  at  me. 

"We  are  put  upon  our  honor,"  I  whispered 
back.  "  I  am  breaking  a  rule  in  holding  any 
communication  with  you."  And  I  solved  the 
last  difficult  problem  upon  my  own  paper. 

"Dear,  is  not  it  better  to  be  sweet  and 
kind  than  to  be  a  crank  about  one's  own 
honor?" 

She  was  vigorously  well  grown,  there  was 
the  unmistakable  aroma  of  wealth  about  her, 
and  she  was  expressly  beautiful ;  neverthe- 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

less,  I  experienced  in  that  moment  an  actual 
physical  sense  as  of  a  sad  little  child  tugging 
at  my  poor  old  black  gown. 

Avoiding  the  eyes  of  our  mentors  on  the 
platform,  I  drew  her  tasks  to  me.  Under 
the  same  acutely  compelling  sense  I  even 
divined  what  her  handwriting  was  like  and 
copied  it.  Before  our  papers  were  gathered 
hers  were  in  her  hands,  complete. 

Our  fate  was  read  to  us  the  next  day. 

"  There  are  two  candidates  for  admission 
to  this  institution,"  said  the  woman  presi- 
dent, smiling,  "  whom  we  must  particularly 
congratulate  upon  the  satisfactory  character 
of  their  papers — Miss  Martha  Scheffer  "  (my 
forlorn  self)  "and  Miss  Katherine  Eleanor 
Arundell "  (the  baby  who  had  tugged  at  my 
rusty  gown). 

A  bevy  of  young  women,  endeared  to  her 
by  an  acquaintance  of  some  hours,  were 
clinging  about  the  person  of  Miss  Arundell. 
"  How  did  you  do  it,  love  ?  You  were  sure 
you  could  never  pass  the  examinations." 

"  Oh,  I  do  not  know  " — the  sweet  melan- 
choly of  her  face  broke  into  an  inspiring 
smile — "  somehow  it  all  came  to  me— in  a 
flash !" 

2 


CHAPTER  II 

"  I  COULD  not  tell  of  you,  you  see,"  said  she, 
in  my  room.  "  I  wanted  to — you  angel ! — 
but  it  would  have  gotten  you  into  such 
trouble.  So  I  stood  true,  and  always  shall !" 

There  was  almost  a  sublime  glow  on  her 
features. 

"What  are  you  here  for?"  I  said,  shortly. 
"  There  are  fashionable  seminaries  for  such 
as  you.  Why  did  your  parents  send  you 
here  ?" 

"They  are  dead,  dear,"  she  gasped,  and 
made  crosses  with  her  forefinger  on  the  lap 
of  my  gown.  "  Grandmamma  takes  care  of 
me,  and  I  do  not  think  she  loves  me  very 
much.  She  said  once  that  I  was  a  'moral 
imbecile ' !" 

The  injustice  of  this  remark  blazed  warm- 
ly from  her  eyes.  I  was  silent. 

"  I  have  really  only  Forrester.  Forrester 
is  my  brother."  She  turned  pale  and  choked ; 
the  crosses  became  very  rapid  and  frequent. 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"  I  have  never  told  any  one  but  you  —  but 
Forrester  went  wrong.  He  forged  grand- 
mamma's name  to  a  check ;  but  grandmamma 
has  so  much — and  was  so  stingy  with  him. 
I  do  not  see  how  he  could  do  any  other 
way." 

Her  pale  and  rapid  movements  changed  to 
an  air  of  conscientious  resolution. 

"  Grandmamma  told  him  never  to  enter  the 
house  again  till — till  he  had  been  redeemed, 
if  you  know  what  that  means.  He  went  to 
California.  One  night  he  came  back ;  only 
I  and  Watson — the  butler — saw  him.  Dear- 
est, I  do  not  think  he  looked  redeemed — he 
was  all  pinned  up  with  safety-pins !" 

An  oblivious  compassion  shone  in  her  eyes 
as  she  lifted  them  to  mine. 

I  looked  away  from  her  over  into  the  glass 
opposite.  I  saw  a  wide  mouth,  unfeelingly 
sarcastic  at  this  moment ;  a  dark,  ugly  face ; 
a  long  scar  on  one  cheek,  and  a  permanent 
frown  between  the  eyes.  "  And  does  your 
grandmother  call  him  a  moral  imbecile 
too  ?"  I  queried. 

"  I  dare  say  —  she  is  unkind  enough." 
The  finger  began  making  crosses  again 
on  my  gown.  "I  and  "Watson  gave  him 
4 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

some  money.  We  love  him.  He  came 
here — he  was  expelled  from  college  once  in 
this  place  and  knew  some  people.  Grand- 
mamma does  not  know  where  he  is.  I  want 
to  be  near  him,  so  I  told  her  if  she  would 
let  me  come  here  to  school,  I  would  promise 
to  marry  horrid  old  Beeman  Price.  Grand- 
mamma thinks  there  can  never  be  money 
enough  in  the  family,  and  he  has  oceans. 
But  I  can  get  out  of  that  all  right,  once  I 
have  my  way.  All  I  care — do  not  you 
think  I  can  help  redeem  poor  Forrester?" 

"How  old  are  you?"  said  I,  abruptly, 
astray  of  the  subject.  The  face  over  in  the 
glass  looked  bitter  and  stern. 

"  Twenty,  and  Forrester  is  twenty-two." 

"  You  look  seventeen,  and  you  act  like — " 

Her  face  grew  pitifully  crimson. 

"  Why  should  you  tell  all  this  to  me,"  I 
continued  —  "  an  absolute  stranger  to  you  ? 
Is  it  very  discreet  ?  Why  should  you  trust 
me?" 

"  Because  I  do." 

Her  head  went  down  on  my  lap,  already 
inscribed  with  innumerable  crosses.  I  felt 
the  sobs  that  were  shaking  her. 

"  I  do  not  know  what  to  do  with  you,"  I 

5 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

said.  "You  have  come  in  here  against 
the  rules,  in  study  hours,  and  I  am  very 
busy." 

She  crept  nearer,  her  arms  went  round 
my  neck. 

"  Have  you  learned  your  lessons  ?"  The 
head  made  a  negative  movement  in  my 
neck. 

"  Bring  your  books ;  I  will  help  you." 

The  face  over  in  the  glass  showed  very 
grim  when  she  was  gone.  Hardship,  pov- 
erty, toil,  from  my  childhood  up — the  last 
stage,  three  years,  employed  as  nurse  amid 
the  miseries  and  horrors  of  a  county  insane 
asylum.  Now,  at  twenty-four,  I  had  earned 
enough,  and  by  lonely  application  had  mas- 
tered enough,  to  take  for  myself  the  papers 
admitting  me  to  the  last  year  at  X ,  pre- 
paratory to  entering  the  medical  school  near 
by,  the  ambition  of  my  life. 

But  all  along  my  life  thus  far  there  had 
been  ever  some  helpless  hand  lifted  by  the 
way,  hindering,  deterring,  holding  me.  My 
fate?  Or  was  I,  in  spite  of  my  ugly  face, 
foolish  and  soft-hearted  ? 

I  laid  my  own  work  aside  preparatory  to 
aiding  Miss  Katherine  Eleanor  Arundell  in 

6 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

her  tasks ;  but  when  she  came  back  there 
were  no  books  in  her  hand,  and  her  usual- 
ly self-possessed  and  deliberate  manner  was 
changed  to  a  rush  of  excitement. 


CHAPTER  III 

"  FORRESTER  has  come  to  call !  He  wishes 
to  see  you !  Parmenter "  (our  respected 
president)  "  has  given  nie  permission  to  take 
you  down !" 

"But  I  am  not  going  down  to  see  your 
brother,"  said  I,  coolly,  taking  up  my  book. 
"  It  is  absurd." 

She  closed  the  door  behind  her  and  stepped 
across  the  room  as  if  it  had  suddenly  become 
a  place  of  awful  solemnity,  her  face  white 
with  emotion. 

"  You  belong  to  a  church,  do  you  not?" 

"  Assuredly." 

"And  how  will  you  feel  —  how  will  you 
feel  in  that  great  day  they  tell  about,  to  have 
it  said  that  poor  Forrester  asked  to  see  you, 
and  you  would  not  go  down — no,  not  for  one 
single  little  moment  —  to  help  me  redeem 
him?" 

My  life  had  not  been  of  a  humorous  charac- 
ter, but  the  quality  was  in  me,  and  I  bit  my  lip. 


"  Little  one,"  I  said  to  the  physically  tall 
and  well  -  developed  being  before  me,  "go 
down  and  see  your  brother,  and  leave  me 
alone.  I  have  played  with  you  already 
enough  for  to-day." 

I  had  not  meant  to  deal  her  a  blow,  but  I 
had  done  so  and  I  was  amazed ;  there  was  no 
affectation  in  the  still  despair  with  which  she 
turned  to  the  window,  like  some  bright  thing 
wounded  beyond  recall. 

I  rose.     "  Come !"  I  said. 

Evidently  the  mendicant  era  of  safety-pins 
had  been  erased  from  Forrester  Arundell's 
calendar.  "  Fop !"  I  said,  mentally. 

"  This  is  so  kind  of  you,  Miss  Scheffer," 
he  said,  bowing  low — "  so  very  kind  of  you. 
My  sister  is  already  so  deeply  attached  to 
you,  I  hope  you  will  let  me  call  you  a  friend 
too." 

"Come,"  said  Miss  Arundell,  now  quite 
joyful  in  spirits  again,  "  let  us  all  sit  down, 
and  tell  her  about  the  old  place  and  Graff 
and  Dinah.  Dinah  was  my  horse  and  Graff 
was  Forrester's." 

"  Ah,  what  a  stick  he  was !  And  I  thought 
him  so  tremendous." 

"And  poor  grandpapa  has  lost  his  mind, 
9 


THE  -MORAL    IMBECILES 

you  know,"  said  Miss  Arundell,  appealing  di- 
rectly to  me. 

"Ah  yes,  my  poor  grandfather  had  lost 
his  mind  years  before  I  left  home,  Miss 
Scheffer,"  said  Forrester. 

They  sat,  one  on  each  side  of  me,  at  a 
conventional  distance,  but  as  the  sister  now 
moved  her  chair  a  little  nearer  me  the  large 
brother  immediately  followed  her  example. 

"  Still,  Dinah  did  a  very  pretty  gait  that 
day  at  the  country  fair — when  we  ran  away 
to  it,  Forrester,  you  remember  ?" 

"  Yes,  you  won,  Nell,  although  you  were 
not  entered.  How  I  tagged  after  you  in 
mischief !" 

"Well,  you  poor  boy,  you  could  never 
think  of  things  to  do  yourself,  you  know." 

They  both  came  nearer. 

"  Grandmamma  is  just  the  same  as  ever." 

"Yes,  I  should  think  my  grandmother 
would  be  likely  to  be  just  about  the  same  as 
ever,  Nell." 

"  Oh,  but,  Forrester,  the  Kentuck}7"  horse  I 
had  last  summer  was — a  dream !" 

"  I  am  training  a  horse  that  would  be  a 
jewel  for  you,  Nell — if  he  were  mine  to  give 
you." 

10 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

They  were  both  almost  affectionately  close 
to  me  now. 

"  And  what  used  you  to  ride,  Miss  Schef- 
f er  ?  Tell  us  about  it." 

"  I  lived,"  said  I,  without  embarrassment 
— as  those  who  have  struggled  with  penury 
and  pain  are  not  apt  to  have — "  on  a  wretch- 
ed little  farm  in  Vermont ;  we  had  one  very 
old  and  uncouth  horse.  I  was  sometimes 
sent  to  mill  on  his  back  to  bring  home  a  bag 
of  meal.  I  had  no  saddle,  and  I  need  not  tell 
you  the  experience  was  entirely  bracing." 

"  But  I  bet  you  stayed  on,"  said  Forrester, 
earnestly,  looking  straight  into  my  eyes. 

"  Well,  yes — I  stayed  on." 

"  How  charming  of  you  to  do  such  wild 
things,"  said  Miss  Arundell,  "and  not  to 
mind  what  people  said."  Her  handsome 
face  had  a  sort  of  chastened  saintship  in 
repose.  The  brother  had  no  feature  like 
her,  but  he  looked  at  me  with  the  faithful- 
est  and  kindest  pair  of  blue  eyes  I  have  ever 
seen  in  all  this  world.  How  was  one  to 
know  moral  imbeciles  by  their  looks,  then  ? 

"  It  was  not  a  fad,  nor  even  a  dashing 
freak  of  mine,"  I  returned.  "  It  was  a  mat- 
ter of  necessity ;  we  all  worked  very  hard." 
11 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"  You  darling !"  said  Miss  Arundell.  The 
brother  sighed  between  his  brutally  strong 
and  perfect  teeth.  I  did  not  know  but  they 
were  both  going  to  put  their  arms  around 
me,  but  they  restrained  the  momentary  im- 
pulse. 

"  And  now  I  hope  you  will  have  a  very 
happy  time  together,"  I  said,  rising.  "  I  am 
going  to  leave  you." 

"  Oh  no !"  Miss  Arundell  gasped,  laying  a 
detaining  hand  on  me.  Forrester  did  not  do 
that,  but  he  looked  grave  encouragement  at 
her.  "  "We  have  not  come  to  the  subject  yet 
— have  we,  Forrester  ?" 

"No,  Nell,  we  have  not  come  to  the  sub- 
ject yet." 

I  sat  down  again  and  waited.' 

"You  see"  —  she  began  tracing  crosses 
again  on  the  skirt  of  my  gown — "we  are 
going  to  do  what  you  think  right.  Forrester 
has  been  making  his  money  —  well,  betting 
about  horses,  and — well,  cards ;  and  he  nev- 
er cheats — but  perhaps  you  think  it  is  not 
right?" 

"  Yes ;  I  think  it  is  weak  and  wrong." 

I  looked  straightly  aside  from  him  to  the 
questioning  gaze  of  his  sister. 
12 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"  Well,  having  promised  to  do  what  she 
wished,  I  squeeze  pocket-money  out  of  grand- 
mamma— enough  for  us  both  —  and  I  wish 
him  to  share  it  with  me  instead  of  doing 
those  things,  and  he  laughs  at  me ;  he  says 
it  is  unmanly ;  he  says  he  won't !" 

"  I  think  it  is  unmanly,  too." 

"  There !"  Forrester  chuckled,  and  in  his 
elation  drew  out  a  perfumed  handkerchief 
from  his  pocket,  a  half  -  dozen  pairs  of  kid 
gloves,  more  or  less  worn,  falling  unnoticed 
beside  him  on  the  floor. 

Miss  Arundell's  face  was  a  picture  of  dis- 
may and  perplexity. 

" I  do  not  know  what  to  do!"  she  cried. 

I  had  never  been  in  society,  and  had  walked 
of  necessity  a  hard,  straight  line. 

"  I  do  not  feel  competent  to  be  the  adviser 
of  you  two,"  I  said,  "  but  you  have  appealed 
to  me,  and  I  will  tell  you  frankly  the  best  I 
think.  I  think  it  is  beneath  your  brother 
either  to  gamble  or  to  take  your  pocket- 
money.  I  think  if  he  would  get  any  honest 
employment,  however  degrading  he  might 
consider  it  in  one  sense,  I,  at  least,  according 
to  the  best  I  think  and  know,  should  honor 
him  for  it !" 

13 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

Blank  dismay  showed  on  the  faces  of  both 
•the  moral  imbeciles. 

"And  now  I  am  going,"  I  said.  I  held 
out  my  hand  to  Forrester  Arundell,  looking 
at  him  for  the  first  time  since  I  had  thus 
mercilessly  suggested  his  line  of  conduct. 

He  grasped  my  hand  warmly  and  without 
anger,  meeting  me  in  his  peculiarly  earnest, 
straightforward  way,  but  he  looked,  as  his 
sister  had  done,  as  though  I  had  dealt  him  an 
irremediable  blow. 


CHAPTER  IV 

"CAN  you  account  for  your  friend  —  for 
Miss  Arundell?"  said  the  president,  who  had 
bidden  me  to  her  in  private.  "  She  passed — 
not  taking  papers  in  advance,  like  yourself — 
but  she  passed  wonderfully  good  examina- 
tions for  admission — and  I  am  informed  by 
her  teachers  that  during  the  nine  days  she 
has  already  been  here  she  has  not  yet  been 
able  to  answer  a  single  question  put  to  her 
in  the  class-room." 

I  looked  straight  and  sadly  at  Madam 
Parmenter. 

As  far  as  my  own  undoing  was  concerned, 
I  can  honestly  say  I  would  have  preferred 
to  tell  the  truth  then  and  there ;  as  it  was,  I 
could  only  meet  her  gaze  sadly  and  unblush- 
ingly. 

"  We  thought  possibly  some  mental  strain 
in  preparing  herself  to  come  here  may  have 
temporarily  unfitted  her,  Miss  Scheffer?" 

Still  I  could  not  even  smile.     "  I  hope  you 

15 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

will  have  all  the  patience  possible  with  her," 
I  said. 

"She  is  a  most  engaging  person,  and  so 
endearingly  tractable.  If  she  can  make  some 
improvement,  very  well ;  if  not,  it  will  doubt- 
less be  best  for  her  to  repair  to  her  home 
again  until  she  can  recover  her  mental  tone." 

O 

"  Eleanor,"  I  said,  later,  to  the  subject  of 
this  conversation,  "  if  you  do  not  learn  your 
lessons — " 

"  Oh,  darling,  I  have  such  news  for  you ! 
Forrester  has  got  a  place — as  conductor — on 
the  street  cars !" 

In  tragedy  Miss  Arundell  was  supreme, 
and  solemnly  tragic  was  her  countenance 
now. 

"I  am  very  glad  of  it,"  I  said,  briefly, 
hiding  my  amazement.  "  Surely,  if  he  has 
resolved  to  do  so  nobly,  you  do  not  wish  to 
be  sent  home  because — " 

"  Yes,"  said  she,  very  seriously,  "  I  wish 
to  go  home.  October  is  my  favorite  month 
in  the  country,  and  the  sublimest  to  ride  in. 
Poor  grandpapa  misses  me,  too,  I  know — 
and  I  shall  leave  Forrester  with  you." 

"  With  me !" 

"  Yes ;  he  is  doing  what  you  advised,  and 
16 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

we  think,  somehow,  that  you  see  the  right 
way  for  him  to  get  redeemed  and  for  grand- 
mamma to  take  him  back.  He  says  he  shall 
keep  right  on,  if  you  will  let  him  call  some- 
times and  '  get  points.'  It  will  not  be  often, 
poor  fellow  !  he  rarely  has  any  time  off.  And 
I  shall  have  you  with  me  in  your  winter  va- 
cation, when  we  are  in  New  York." 

. "  What  a  preposterous  idea,  Eleanor  !  Un- 
less you  will  decide  to  stay  here  and  apply 
yourself,  it  will  be  'farewell'  between  us 
two." 

"  Ah  no !"     She  smiled,  confidently. 

"  In  my  winter  vacation,  I  shall  be  at  our 
Vermont  shanty,  with  my  good  brother  Dan 
— very  surely." 

"  Then  I  will  come  there  to  you." 

"Excuse  me  —  but  you  will  do  no  such 
thing !  "We  could  neither  entertain  you  nor 
keep  you  warm." 

"  Well,  it  will  be  better  for  me  to  go  to 
you  in  the  summer,  I  think,  and  in  your  win- 
ter vacation  you  will  come  to  me." 

"  Most  certainly  not." 

"Oh  yes,  you  will!"  She  laughed  with 
such  enlightenment  in  the  belief  that  she  did 
not  even  care  to  pursue  the  subject. 

B  17 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"Why  won't  you  stay  here  and  learu 
something  ?"  I  said. 

An  idea  that  Miss  Arundell  would  fain 
have  considerately  and  delicately  concealed 
from  me  now  forced  itself  upon  me — that 
she  considered  it  ill-bred  to  study.  The  soft- 
est compassion  only  lighted  her  face.  "  You 
cannot  help  it,"  she  sighed,  mysteriously, 
"  but  perhaps  some  day  things  will  be  differ- 
ent. You  do  not  know,"  she  added,  "the 
trial  it  was  to  me  to  come  here  at  all;  but  I 
felt  it  my  duty,  and  I  came." 

Her  saintship  was  clad  all  in  white,  and  it 
became  her. 

"  You  won't  be  sharp  with  poor  Forrester  ? 
He  might  not  understand  you  so  well  as  I." 

"  Indeed,  if  you  could  look  into  ray  heart, 
Eleanor,  you  might  see  that  I  feel  rather 
sharp  with  you" 

She  laughed  and  laid  the  cool  rose  of  her 
face  against  my  scarred,  dark  cheek. 


CHAPTER  V 

"  FARE,  please !" 

.It  was  a  Sunday  evening,  unseasonably 
warm,  and  I  had  not  noticed  the  conductor 
till  he  appeared  to  me  on  the  side  platform 
of  the  open  car. 

"I  have  been  looking  for  you,"  said  he, 
eagerly — and  why  he  should  seem  so  glad  to 
see  me  I  could  not  imagine — "but  you  must 
always  have  been  on  some  other  fellow's  car 
— Thorn  Street!  Change  for  Greyridge — 
you  are  not  going  to  change  ?  Good  ! — ex- 
cuse me  one  moment — 

"  You  do  not  know  how  good  and  home- 
like it  seems  to  see  you  again!  What  do 
you  hear  from  Nell  ?" 

"  Her  first  letter  was  in  French — and  very 
good  French,  too." 

"  That  was  just  to  show  you  what  she  did 
know — dear  old  girl !" 

A  fellow-passenger,  hearing  only  the  last 
19 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

part  of  this  enthusiastic  address,  turned  and 
regarded  me  narrowly. 

"The  second  is  in  English  —  her  native 
tongue."  I  took  the  letter  out  of  ray 
pocket  — 

" '  DEAREST  MARTHA, — It  almost  brakes  my 
harte  that  I  cannot  have  you  and  Forrester 
with  me  this  devine  wether  ..."  I  then 
read  aloud  to  him,  in  a  low  tone:  '"Tell 
Forrester  grandmamma  had  a  new  biblicul 
text  that  came  with  an  advertissment  by 
post,  that  she  sent  down  to  the  servants' 
parlor,  becaus  she  said  the  goddy  colors  of 
it  were  appropriate  for  them.  It  was,  "  Look 
forhead  and  not  back,  look  out  and  not  in, 
and  lend  a  hand." ' " 

There  could  not  have  been  time  for  this  in- 
junction to  take  effect.  Indeed,  I  think  For- 
rester Arundell  had  hardly  comprehended  it 
yet :  he  was  abstractedly  picking  the  bits  of 
straw  and  dirt  out  of  the  fringe  of  an  old,  old 
lady's  shawl ;  it  had  escaped  through  the 
space  in  the  seat  back  of  her,  and  was  sweep- 
ing the  floor. 

"  Laddis  Street  1"  No  one  getting  off  or 
on,  he  continued  his  occupation  with  the 
20 


fringe  assiduously,  then  tucked  it  in  tenderly 
out  of  harm's  way,  without  her  observation. 

"Bemis  Street!''  The  very  old  lady,  who 
was  without  an  attendant,  beckoned  him 
feebly  to  stop.  He  sprang  off,  and,  disre- 
garding her  trembling  hand — instead  of  al- 
lowing her  to  climb  down  painfully  from  the 
high  platform  with  only  such  small  aid — he 
took  her  in  his  arms  and  set  her  slowly  down 
as  if  she  had  been  priceless  porcelain.  A 
grateful  smile  lightened  her  pallid  old  face, 
and  he  leaped  back  to  his  car  with  a  low 
sweep  of  his  conductor's  cap. 

" '  109 '  's  rather  soft  on  the  girls,"  said 
one  of  two  unkempt  individuals,  smoking  on 
the  rear  seat. 

"  I'll  tell  you !"  said  Forrester,  who  had 
evidently  been  meditating  all  this  while.  "  I 
can  get  Dick  Thurston  to  take  my  place, 
down  at  the  station — he  and  I  change  off, 
Sunday  nights — and  I'll  go  to  church  with 
you.  May  I  ?" 

"  Why— yes." 

"  I  know  what  church  you  go  to.  You  go 
to  the  true  old  blue." 

"Well?" 

"Here  we  are!  —  now,  just  a  minute! 
21 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

This  is  charming !  I  haven't  been  to  church 
with  a  lady  for  years,  Miss  Scheffer."  He 
pulled  a  soft  felt  hat  out  of  his  pocket,  and 
crammed  his  cap  into  that  receptacle.  He 
gave  a  pull  at  each  side  of  his  mustache. 
"  Excuse  me  for  prinking  on  the  street.  I've 
worn  out  my  gloves ;  besides,  I  can't  fin- 
ger the  change  with  them.  You  won't  be 
ashamed  of  me?" 

His  light  hair  was  parted  in  the  middle 
and  gave  evidence  of  the  most  vigorous  nat- 
ural growth ;  his  white  felt  hat  had  taken, 
to  say  the  least,  a  very  hopeful  cant ;  he  was 
gigantic  and  brigandish-looking,  and  one  of 
his  boots  was  waxing  near  that  supplicatory 
condition  which  cries  for  a  patch. 

"  Oh  no !"  I  said.  "  I  am  rather  shabby 
myself." 

"Are  you?  I  had  never  noticed  it."  A 
long-breathing  sigh,  like  the  one  he  had  given 
in  the  parlor  at  the  college,  whistled  through 
his  teeth.  "  Let's  sit  on  the  back  seat,  so  we 
can  whisper !" 

I  had  another  motive  for  acceding  instant- 
ly to  this  request.  Nearly  all  my  professors 
— women — attended  this  church,  and  I  had 
no  fancy  for  marching  conspicuously  up  the 

22 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

aisle  with  my  stupendous  and  uniformed 
street-car  conductor.  I  entered  the  very 
last  pew,  in  which  sat  only  a  little  negro  boy. 
In  his  embarrassment  at  being  thus  invaded, 
having  let  me  pass,  he  gathered  himself  close 
to  me,  leaving  my  escort  at  the  other  ex- 
treme. 

"  See  here,  Mr.  Jackson,"  whispered  that 
undaunted  individual;  "you  came  early  to 
get  the  end-seat,  didn't  you  ?" 

"  Yeth,  thir,"  replied  the  boy,  who  would 
have  responded  in  the  affirmative  to  any- 
thing, so  ingratiating  was  Forrester's  manner. 

"  "Well,  come  over  here  and  take  it,  Sonny. 
I'm  no  pig."  In  thus  reversing  the  situation, 
the  two  knocked  the  hymn-books  out  of  the 
rack.  The  juvenile  element  in  the  galleries 
regarded  us  with  sparkling  eyes. 

Forrester  deliberately  replaced  the  books, 
stopping  to  read  a  selection  from  each  one, 
then  folded  his  arms,  crossed  his  long  legs, 
and  leaned  towards  me  : 

"  I  get  a  lot  of  chaff  from  the  fellows  I 
left,  Miss  Scheffer,  about  what  I  am  doing 
now.  They  think  it's  one  of  my  daredev — 
bluffs,  but  it  is  not.  I'm  never  going  back 
to  that  sort  of  life  again  !" 
23 


T  HE  MORAL    IMBECILES 

"  I  will  talk  with  you  about  it  after  service," 
I  said. 

"  All  right,  mamma !"  He  looked  straight 
into  my  face  with  his  honest,  laughing  eyes, 
and  showed  the  whole  two  rows  of  his  mas- 
tiff teeth  at  me. 

A  look  of  disappointment  encircled  the 
galleries  as  he  now  straightened  himself  up 
with  an  air  of  adamantine  seriousness.  But 
when  we  rose  and  sang,  we  became  again  the 
cynosure  of  many  eyes.  Some  in  the  audi- 
ence even  turned  around  to  look. 

So  jubilant  and  profound  a  bass  as  issued 
from  the  lungs  of  Forrester  Arundell  I  had 
never  heard.  My  voice — all  voices — seemed 
borne  on  it  like  a  bird  on  ocean  billows.  As 
Madam  Parmenter  turned  a  sidelong  glance, 
I  felt  the  blood  in  my  face,  but  my  brigand 
sang  on  triumphantl}T. 

"  What  do  you  say  to  walking  home,  Miss 
Scheifer  ?" — a  delicious  sigh  ! — "  it  will  be  so 
much  longer." 

"  I  prefer  it,"  I  said,  hurriedly,  seeing  a 
group  I  knew  waiting  for  a  car  at  the  corner. 

"  Take  my  .arm,  won't  you,  please  ?  Nell 
always  takes  my  arm.  She  and  the  fine  young 
ladies  in  her  set  used  to  say  they  could  walk 
24 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

miles  with  me  and  not  tire.  I'm  not  bad  to 
walk  with — if  you  only  will —  You  don't 
touch  me !  You  act  as  if  I  was  contamina- 
tion!" A  hot  flush  came  to  his  face;  his 
lips  quivered.  I  put  my  painfully  mended 
glove  on  his  arm. 

Here  was  I,  who,  all  the  days  of  my  girl- 
hood, had  walked  alone,  while  the  village 
youth  escorted  my  fairer  and  merrier  sisters, 
here  was  I,  at  last — the  unsought  and  sedate 
— walking  home  from  evening  meeting  on 
the  arm  of  a  jaunty  giant  of  six  feet  two, 
with  his  hat  cocked  perilously  near  the  verge 
of  his  head. 

"  Would  you  mind,"  I  inquired,  "  putting 
your  hat  forward  just  a  little  ?" 

"  "What !  Oh,  Miss  Scheffer,  will  you  pardon 
me  ?  My  hair's  so  rough  I  can  never  tell  where 
the  confounded  thing  is.  Xell  and  that  set 
used  to  push  it  back;  they  said  it  made  me 
picturesque!  Ha,  ha!  but  you've  never  a 
good  word  for  me,  Miss  Scheffer.  There ! 
Is  it  right  now  ?" 

"You  look  as  though  you  were  masked 
for  house-breaking,"  I  replied,  laughing  in 
spite  of  myself. 

"  Well,  now  ?     Have  I  got  the  right  caper 

25 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

now  ?  Yes  ?  It  shall  always  be  worn  that 
way — always,"  said  he,  sturdily,  and  with 
impressive  gravity. 

He  now  marched  on  with  me  as  though  we 
had  become  affiliated  by  special  bonds  in  a 
compact  in  which  words  were  unnecessary. 

"  Do  you  find  your  new  life  very  hard  ?" 
said  I,  at  last,  by  way  of  breaking  this  family 
silence. 

"Not  a  bit!"  said  he,  joyously.  "I'm 
working — for  an  object !" 

"  That  is  good." 

"  Good  ! — it's  bliss !  I'm  not  only  going 
to  prove  myself  to  my  grandmother,  but  in 
the  first  place  I'm  running  this  course  for  a 
love  at  first  meeting — yes,  sir — and,  by  all 
that's  true,  a  first  .love,  too!" 

"I  am  more  than  glad  that  you  have  a 
friend  who  is  such  an  incentive  to  you." 

He  sniffed,  chuckled,  and  bore  me  along 
for  a  few  steps  at  something  of  a  ball-room 
galop. 

"  Do  you  know,  I  thought  nobody  cared 
really  about  me,  and  when  Nell  did  something 
that  was  just  the  hardest  pull  on  her  that 
anything  could  be,  to  come  and  look  after  me — 

"  And  when  you — you — consented  to  come 
26 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

down  and  see  me,  and  flung  right  out  at  me 
from  the  shoulder,  and  sent  me  down. 

"  At  first  I  coughed  '  knocked  out,'  but 
now  I'm  up  in  the  ring,  Miss  Scheffer,  and 
bloody  for  the  fight — excuse  me,  I'd  talk  the 
last  edition  of  the  grammar  to  you,  on  my  soul, 
if  I  knew  it,  but  I  mean  business,  you  see, 
and  that's  putting  the  case  on  the  bee-line." 

"  I  understand,  and  I  wish  you  the  victory." 

"  Do  you !  Do  you,  though  !  I  wonder  if 
I  shall  get  it !  My  grandmother  Arundell 
'11  sneak  around  a  corner  and  chip  through 
the  cellar  and  beat  a  wire-fence,  but  she'll 
always  get  her  own  way.  Nell's  lofty,  but 
Nell,  somehow,  always  skirts  around  the 
reefs  and  comes  out  with  her  own  particular 
flag  flying.  I  wonder  if  I'm  one  of  'em !" 
He  became  absorbed  in  almost  palpable  medi- 
tation. 

"  Good-night,"  I  said,  at  the  gate. 

He  seemed  not  to  hear  me.  "  Miss  Schef- 
fer, this  is  straight :  I've  been  bad  enough  in 
some  ways,  but  no  woman  in  this  world  has 
any  cause  to  reproach  me."  He  lifted  his 
hat  and  looked  at  me.  "  And  Nell  says — now 
this  isn't  conceit :  you  know  I'm  bound  to  be 
rich  any  way  in  the  end ;  she  and  I  are  the 
27 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

heirs  straight,  and  the  law  settles  that — she 
says  there's  not  a  girl  in  her  set,  and  it's  the 
toney  set,  but  would  have  me  if  I  came  back. 
But  I  don't  want  any  of  those  girls." 

"  Well,"  said  I,  knowing  that  my  mouth 
was  taking  its  humorously  cool  expression, 
"  that  is  a  dilemma,  I  should  think,  you  could 
avoid  with  care." 

"I  want  somebody  else." 

"  I  should  recommend,  then,"  I  said,  laugh- 
ing, "your  paying  your  attentions  in  that 
quarter." 

"  Miss  Scheffer,  you  may  be  the  eruditest 
young  woman  in  this  institution — they  say 
so — but  allow  me  to  say  that,  on  some  trails, 
you  —  walk — tremendous  —  slow."  He  was 
white  and  his  hand  shook  the  gate. 

"  It's  you  I'm  going  to  try  for !"  He  swung 
his  hat,  adjusted  it  with  sledge-hammer  em- 
phasis in  the  position  I  had  recommended, 
and  strode  away. 

"  He  is  insane !"  I  gasped.  "  They  always 
hung  to  me ;  they  always  obeyed  me."  I  got 
to  my  room  and  sank  down  into  a  chair.  In 
the  mirror  opposite  I  saw  only  a  pair  of  big, 
gloomy,  savage  black  eyes. 

"  "What  a  specimen  for  love  at  first  meet- 
28 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

ing !"  I  commented.  "  And  lie  two  years  my 
junior ! — with  no  brains  and  no  character ! 
Pah  !  I  will  never  see  him  again  !" 

I  drew  my  books  to  me  and  buried  this 
hugely  abortive  romance  in  the  pages  of  my 
pet  science. 


CHAPTER  VI 

IT  was  a  week  after  this  that  a  maid  canie 
to  my  door. 

"  A  gentleman  to  see  you  in  the  drawing- 
room,  Miss  Scheffer." 

I  took  the  card — it  was  a  cheap  one — and 
the  bit  of  paper  thoughtfully  wrapped  about 
it  to  keep  it  clean  had  inadvertently  still 
been  left  to  enfold  it.  I  took  out  this  guarded 
kernel,  and  read,  "  Forrester  Arundell." 

"  Tell  him  that  I  am  very  busy  indeed," 
I  said,  "  and  cannot  possibly  see  him." 

No  further  message  ensued,  and  I  returned 
to  my  work. 

And  now,  instead  of  the  usually  fascinat- 
ing terms  of  my  text-book,  I  began  to  see 
intrusive  characters,  in  a  t}Tpe  befitting  the 
head-lines  of  the  most  atrocious  newspaper : 

"  After  all,  he  was  doing  bravely,  bearing 
scorn  from  his  associates  and  hardship  in  his 
lot.  A  congenial  employment — any  employ- 
ment— was  not  easy  to  find  in  these  days, 
30 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

even  for  one  specially  endowed,  and  he — he 
had  done  at  once  the  best  he  could." 

The  insistent  characters  still  forced  them- 
selves on  the  page. 

"You  have  always  said  'heroism'  is  not 
specific,  but  a  matter  of  circumstances.  He 
— in  his  stupid  way — was  conquering  him- 
self at  last.  If  he  was  morally  and  intellect- 
ually childish,  so  much  the  more  excuse 
might  be  made  for  him,  so  much  the  more 
due  to  his  fortitude  and  constancy. 

"  And  if  he  should  sink  back !" 

Katherine  Eleanor  Arundell,  too,  took  up 
her  position  before  me,  all  in  white,  and  her 
eyes  regarded  me. 

"  I  will  give  up  my  work — my  ambition — 
and  attend  to  grown-up  babies  —  to  im- 
beciles !"  I  cried,  wrathf ully,  in  my  heart. 

"  Other  people,  through  infinite  toil,  may 
have  a  right  to  some  existence  of  their  own, 
but  it  is  not  for  me !" 

I  nursed  the  bitterness  of  this  for  several 
days,  and  said  my  prayers  over  it.  "At 
least,  you  might  have  been  friendly  and 
kind,"  suggested  the  angel,  who  turned  a 
forbiddingly  cold  shoulder  to  my  orthodox 
petitions. 

31 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

Another  unique  epistle  came  from  Eleanor 
(I  had  not  answered  the  last).  In  it  was  an 
enclosure  addressed  simply  to  "  Forrester." 
"  Why  does  she  not  address  him  by  post  ?" 
I  snapped.  "  It  is  as  though  I  comprised  the 
responsbility  of  the  whole  unknown  family !" 
But  I  was  somewhat  subdued,  and  I  stopped 
at  the  car-station  in  the  course  of  my  "  con- 
stitutional." 

"  Is  Forrester  Arundell  here  ?" 

"  Jim !"  called  the  authority  I  had  address- 
ed, to  a  man  in  the  restaurant  devouring  a 
piece  of  pie  by  means  only  of  the  choice  im- 
plement of  his  fist.  "  Where's  '  Forty '  ?" 

"  He's  been  laid  off  a  week !  He's  had  a 
hell  of  a  cold  !  He's  coming  on  again  to- 
morrow !"  bawled  the  mouth  of  pie,  uncon- 
scious of  my  presence. 

"  I  will  see  him,  then,"  I  said,  replacing 
the  note  in  my  pocket. 

"  I  thought  Forty  was  iron !"  I  heard,  as 
I  walked  away. 

"  So  he  is.  Forty's  all  right !  Kickless 
as  ever !  Giv'  his  overcoat  to  old  Rheuma- 
tiz!  Old  Rheumatiz  has  got  ten  eatin'  off'n 
him,  you  know !" 

The  next  day,  as  I  took  my  prescribed 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

stroll,  I  glanced  at  the  conductor's  place  on 
the  rear  platform  of  each  passing  car.  They 
were  box-cars  now,  and  the  weather  was  very 
cold. 

I  saw  him  before  he  saw  me — his  cap  rig- 
orously placed.  Demurely  I  hailed  the  car. 
He  was  busy  till  we  were  running  up  past 
the  line  of  traffic.  At  last  I  was  the  only  oc- 
cupant. 

"  I  came  for  the  ride  and  to  give  you  this 
letter,"  I  said.  "  I  am  going  up  to  the  ter- 
minus and  then  back  again." 

He  took  the  letter,  thanking  me.  His  eyes 
looked  heavy  and  hollow,  his  clothes  dilapi- 
dated, his  hands  chapped  and  cold.  "  I've 
been  a  little  sick  and  it  threw  me  off,"  he 
said,  blushing.  "  I  had  to  go  on  living  just 
the  same,  and  I  was  not  earning,  but  I  shall 
spruce  up  again  now  !" 

"  I  want  you  to  promise  either  to  come  to 
see  me,  or  to  go  to  church  with  me  again 
next  Sunday  night,"  I  continued,  directly. 

"  Promise  !  I'll  be  there !  I'd  rather  go 
to  call,"  he  added,  flushing  again — there  was 
plain  need  of  a  patch  on  his  boot  now — "  it 
will  be  quieter." 

"  Yery  well.  And  I  want  to  say  that  I  am 
c  33 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

proud  and  glad  to  have  you  for  a  friend,  Mr. 
Arundell — if  it  can  be  any  pleasure  to  you," 
I  added,  "to  come  occasionally  to  see  an 
old  woman  like  me." 

"  Old  woman !"  He  was  straining  the 
switch -rod  across  his  knee,  and  now  he 
snapped  it  in  two.  "  If  anybody  else  said 
that,  I'd  brain  'em !" 

"Well,"  said  I,  after  the  crash,  as  sooth- 
ingly as  a  discreet  school-mistress  with  the 
recalcitrant  of  her  flock,  "at  least,  I  am  years 
older  than  you,  and  I  am  very  glad  of  it. 
And  that  reminds  me.  I  am  going  to  have 
confidence  in  you;  and  the  little  jest  you 
brought  up  the  other  night — " 

"  What  little  jest  ?  That  I'm  going  to  try 
some  time  to  win  you  for  my  wife  ?  If  that 
was  a  jest,  you  may  tar  and  feather  me,  and 
all  the  town  may  help !" 

"  Must  never  be  repeated." 

"  I  know  it  looks  black  for  me  now.  I 
know  it  looks  ridiculous  to  you  now."  A 
cough,  as  impressive  as  his  bass,  shook  him ; 
he  glanced  down  at  his  shabby  clothes,  and 
the  hot  flush  overspread  his  face.  Coming 
to  a  turn,  he  went  out  to  appty  his  broken 
switch-rod. 

34 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"  I  understand,"  said  he,  coming  back — as 
softly  and  insinuatingly  as  a  weaned  child — 
"  that  I  can  come  up  and  see  you  my  Sunday 
nights  ?" 

u  And  you  understand  me  ?" 

"  Yes,  mamma  dear !"  The  teeth  flashed 
merrily  once  more  across  his  lugubriously 
thinning  visage. 

He  kept  boyishly  close  to  me  on  the  return 
trip.  As  the  fares  began  to  come  in — ten- 
derly attentive  to  the  cripples  and  babies — 
he  cheerfully  neglected  the  financial  returns 
to  come  and  stand  over  me,  gazing  out  of  the 
window  with  a  contented  possessive  smile  on 
his  face,  and  his  hands  sunk  peacefully  in  his 
pockets. 

I  got  off  as  soon  as  I  could,  and  concluded 
that  I  would  not  go  to  seek  my  spiritual 
patient  any  more  on  the  line  of  the  street- 
cars. 


CHAPTER  VII 

SOME  days  before  the  opening  of  the  Christ- 
mas vacation  I  received  a  telegram. 

It  was  a  strange  and  palpitating  event  to 
me,  who  had  no  sphere  of  social  acquaint- 
ance, only  one  relative — my  brother — and  a 
stepmother,  both  of  vigorous  constitution. 

I  tore  it  open  and  read : 

"Miss  Arundell  is  ill  and  entreats  that  you  will  come 
to  her  at  once.  Answer  and  fare  paid,  via  B  &  A,  car 
the  'Vincent,'  seat  No.  12.  You  will  be  met  at  station. 
— Doctor  Clitus  Latimer,  New  York  City." 

The  empiricism  of  illness  had  been  my 
life-long  monitor,  and  now  I  neither  groaned 
nor  hesitated.  Keturning  an  answer,  I 
packed  my  small  wardrobe  and  took  the 
train  for  New  York.  Tender  and  pitiful 
thoughts  of  Katherine  Eleanor  Arundell 
now  filled  my  breast.  My  interrupted  vo- 
cation, it  is  fair  to  say,  did  not  once  appeal 
to  me. 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

I  left  my  luxurious  chair — the  first  time  I 
had  ever  travelled  in  such  fashion — and  hast- 
ened into  the  station  on  my  arrival,  looking 
sharply  about  me. 

A  pair  of  beautiful  seal-fur  arms  took  me 
unawares;  the  scent  of  violets  was  in  my 
nostrils,  the  imprint  of  kisses  on  my  face — 
and  there  before  me,  trustfully,  radiantly 
glad,  in  the  glow  of  such  abundant  health  as 
Providence  had  given  her,  stood  the  chief  of 
my  moral  imbeciles. 

"  Oh,  Eleanor,  how  could  you  ?"  I  cried, 
shocked  to  a  degree  that  had  not  yet  gasped 
its  way  to  indignation. 

"Hush!"  said  she,  gravely.  "You  must 
be  careful.  .  I  nearly  died  of  it  once.  When 
I  heard  you  would  come — it  was  almost  a 
miracle.  Give  me  your  check,  dearest — 
this  way !" 

The  door  of  a  carriage,  austere  in  its  ele- 
gance, was  opened  for  us.  "Drive  home, 
Michael!"  That  functionary  touched  his 
hat  at  the  command,  and  we  rolled  on  mag- 
nificently. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  you?"  I  de- 
manded, unappalled  by  this  exterior  glory, 
looking  searchingly  at  my  companion,  who 
37 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

was  sparkling  and  rose-flushed  with  the  win- 
try air. 

"Doctor  Latimer  will  tell  you.  Don't 
question  me.  Let  me  be  happy,  now  I  have 
you  again.  I  never  was  one  to  take  such 
fancies  to  people,  really,  Martha.  I  never 
had  a  girl  friend — not  real,  deep  friend — be- 
fore." 

She  sank  back  with  the  same  air  of  serene 
possession  that  her  brother  had  displayed  on 
a  recent  occasion. 

"I  surely  wish  to  be  your  friend,"  I  said. 
"  And  I,  too,  am  glad  to  see  you,  and  to  see 
you,  apparently,  so  well ;  do  you  know  how 
much  you  alarmed  me  ?  But  now,  since  you 
have  recovered,  I  must  go  back  to  my  work 
— by  the  next  train." 

"  You  wish  me  to  have  a  relapse,  then  ?" 
she  said.  Both  she  and  her  brother,  among 
their  other  naive  accomplishments,  could 
change  color  at  will,  and  now  she  went  quite 
white. 

"  Not  at  all,"  I  continued,  with  c}Tnical 
resignation ;  "  we  will  go  on.  When  will 
your  doctor  be  in  to  see  you  again  ?" 

"  This  evening.  He  is  grandpapa's  doc- 
tor, too.  We  have  employed  him  a  great 

38 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

many  years,  and  he  is  perfectly  devoted  to 
us." 

"  It  appears  so." 

We  stopped  before  a  brown-stone  mansion, 
and  an  individual  whom  I  took  at  first  to  be 
one  of  the  special  reverend  dignitaries  of  the 
established  church  opened  the  door. 

"  This  is  Watson !"  said  Eleanor,  bound- 
ing past  him  gayly.  "  This  is  my  property, 
Watson.  I  do  not  wish  any  of  the  maids. 
I  do  not  wish  any  one.  She's  mine.  Pll 
take  care  of  her." 

I  was  led  into  a  most  gracious  room. 
Spread  out  on  the  bed  were  three  new  gowns 
of  my  own  sombre  sort,  but  fine  and  tasteful 
beyond  anything  I  had  ever  worn — a  fur-lined 
cloak,  also  black — and  a  bonnet,  which  I  was 
amazed  to  find  being  already  fitted  to  my 
head,  my  expansive  old  felt  hat  having  been 
removed  by  the"  same  dexterous  fingers. 

The  luxurious  cloak  was  flung  around  me 
with  a  swing,  and  I  was  propelled  at  a  rush 
to  the  mirror. 

"  There !"  said  Eleanor,  triumph — and  no 
other  quality — in  her  eyes — "  did  not  I  tell 
you  so  ?" 

"You  certainly  did  not,"  I  rejoined. 
39' 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"  What  does  this  mean  ?  Whose  clothes  are 
you  masquerading  me  in?  Let  me  have 
them  off,  and  behold  your  next  play  —  let 
there  be  frequent  changes  of  scene — I  am 
entirely  at  your  service !" 

She  had  planned  her  rally  and  grand 
charge,  and,  like  all  her  acts  of  finesse,  it 
was  none  the  less  ingenuous  for  having  been 
premeditated. 

"  Do  you  know,"  said  she,  regarding  me 
with  large  and  solemn  eyes,  "  whose  hands 
made  these  things — that  is,  a  great  deal  of 
them  —  for  love  of  you,  Martha?  Martha 
Scheffer,  it  was  almost  like  religion  to  me ! 
And  I  stole  your  measure  from  one  of  your 
dresses  one  day  when  I  was  in  your  room — 
3rou  will  see  if  they  are  not  just  perfect ! 
And  never  wearying,  and  hoping  and  pray- 
ing all  the  while  to  be  good  and  brave  like 
you,  and  I  think  you  will  like  the  shoulder- 
fit  better — just  hoping  and  praying.  And 
now  will  you  go  and  break  her  heart  ?  For, 
if  you  do  not  wear  them,  it  will  seem  to  me 
as  if  you  think  me  beneath  you  and  can 
never  have  any  hope  of  me,  forever,  and  for- 
ever, and  forever,"  she  wailed,  pallid  in  view 
of  such  an  eternity. 

"40 


"Eleanor,  your  poor  brother  is  positive- 
ly getting  needy,  actually  needing  patches. 
How  can  I  wear  these  things  ?" 

"  That  is  the  very  reason,"  said  she,  re- 
covering her  superior  and  smiling  sang-froid. 
"  You  read  your  Bible  ?  You  must  get  ac- 
quainted with  grandmamma." 

"  I  once  flattered  myself  on  some  mental 
resource,"  1  replied,  gently,  "  but  your  logic 
is  beyond  me,  Eleanor." 

"  It  is  not  logic,"  said  she,  religiously ;  "  it 
is  truth.  Forrester  is  on  my  heart  all  the 
time,  Martha.  Ever  since  I  began  su perm- 
ten — making  those  things,  I  have  been  say- 
ing my  prayers,  Martha  Scheffer;  and  if 
you  wear  them,  I  shall  keep  right  on,  and 
keep  on  planning." 

"  The  prayers  are  good,"  I  rejoined,  with 
the  utmost  gentleness.  "As  for  the  plan- 
ning- 

"  I  think,"  she  said,  "  it  is  wicked  to  settle 
down  on  our  prayers,  and  not  plan,  too !" 

"  Could  you  give  me  a  sort  of  synopsis  of 
your  plans  in  general — something  concise, 
that  would  appeal  to  my  understanding  ?" 

She  sighed.     She  had  a  smile  to  melt  a 
'  heart  of  stone. 

41 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"You  must  trust  me,  love,"  she  said. 
"This  is  the  gown  you  are  to  wear  down  to 
dinner."  The  arms  went  round  me  again ; 
the  scent  of  violets,  with  the  cool  cheeks 
against  mine.  The  door  closed  softly  be- 
hind her,  and  she  was  gone. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

"WHY  don't  we  ever  have  some  boiled 
corned-beef  and  cabbage  ?  It's  nothing  now- 
adays but  crab-shells,  and  lark-bones,  and 
fiddle-de-dee !" 

The  nurse,  in  white  apron  and  cap,  who 
was  in  attendance  on  my  host,  picked  up  the 
bird's  wing  he  had  dropped  on  the  floor, 
erased  the  gravy  from  his  trousers  with  a 
napkin,  and  again  took  up  her  position  be- 
hind him  with  a  perfectly  immovable  coun- 
tenance. "Watson,  the  butler,  observed  a  like 
decorum. 

I  had  never  before  dined  at  the  tables  of 
the  opulent,  and  I  felt  that  it  was  anything 
but  monotonous. 

Madam  Arundell  observed  the  high-bred 
serenity  of  unconsciousness.  Katherine  Elea- 
nor, to  whose  bed  of  illness  I  had  been  sum- 
moned, devoted  herself  with  choice  discrim- 
ination to  the  viands  before  her.  My  poor 
host  revelled  in  loquaciousness. 
43 


THE    MOEAL    IMBECILES 

"  Glad  to  have  you  with  us  again,  Martha. 
Sensible  name.  How  did  you  enjoy  your 
trip  to  Italy  ?" 

"  Very  much !"  I  responded,  finding  myself 
again  at  my  familiar  occupation,  as  foster- 
mother  to  the  insane. 

"  Deuced  dirty  place,  /  think.  Glad  to 
have  you  home.  Look  as  though  you  had 
some  sense — sharp,  keen  eye.  Mostly  fools 
around  here — fools  and  hypocrites.  Can  you 
pla}T  backgammon  ?" 

"Yes." 

"  Watson !  have  the  board  brought  out 
after  dinner,  and  some  liquors.  Martha  and 
I  are  going  to  play  backgammon.  D'ye 
hear?" 

*'  Certainly,  sir.  I  attended.  Immejately 
after  dinner,  sir.  It  shall  be  done  as  }rou 
stipulate,  sir." 

"  D — n  your  Pope  and  Milton  grammar, 
Watson !  Why  don't  you  talk  English  ?" 

The  nurse  gathered  up  a  medley  of  lobster 
from  the  carpet  beside  him,  pulled  out  a 
stalk  of  celery  from  his  shirt-bosom,  brushed 
him  a  little,  and  resumed  her  position. 

"  What  are  you  always  mussing  over  me 
for,  Mrs.  Rose  ?"  said  the  object  of  these  at- 

44 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

tentions,  not  discourteously  but  a  little  petu- 
lantly. "Putting  me  here  in  a  bib-and- 
tucker  at  my  own  table,  and  I've  made  my 
millions  !  IJraph  !  All  fools !  Had  me  in 
an  insane  asylum,  only  my  brother  prevented 
it.  Just  because  I  wanted  to  be  charitable — 
charitable,  Martha.  Go  to  church,  and  you're 
bawled  at,  '  Charity,  charity  !'  Come  home 
and  practise  it,  and  you're  trotted  off  to  the 
mad-house.  But  they  can't  circumvent  me. 
I  can  sign  checks  yet !  Eh,  my  little  Nell, 
over  there !  Grandpa  can  sign  checks  yet, 
can't  he  2" 

Eleanor  paused  in  the  consumption  of  the 
dainties  before  her  long  enough  to  assume  a 
brilliantly  beautiful  color.  "  Of  course  you 
can,  grandpapa!" 

"  Where's  the  boy  ?  "Where's  Forrester  ? 
Haven't  you  got  him  home  yet  ?  What  did 
he  do  ?  Couple  of  hundred  dollars — nothin' 
but  a  boy,  then — and  all  in  the  family.  Wrong 
— wrong,  of  course — but  motherless  boy — 
always  had  to  go  on  the  street  when  he 
wanted  a  good  time  —  wouldn't  have  him 
and  his  mates  clutterin'  in  here — ye  know  ye 
wouldn't,  Laura.  Not  a  base  thing  in  him — 
did  it  for  a  lark — wouldn't  do  a  base  thing 
45 


THE    MORAL  IMBECILES 

for  money.  Sent  him  off  to  redeem  his  char- 
acter. Pooh !  Set  of  hypocrites  and  fools, 
Martha !" 

The  lady  of  the  house  preserved  her  im- 
maculate serenity.  Eleanor  ate  on.  The  at- 
tendants remained  unconscious,  the  nurse  in- 
volved now  in  gathering  up  an  interesting 
collection  of  scattered  edibles. 

"  I  reckon  Martha  here  '11  find  the  boy  and 
bring  him  home.  Watson  !" 

"Yes,  sir!" 

"Bring  out  my  writing  materials  after 
dinner.  Martha  must  have  a  check.  "Why 
haven't  you  called  on  me  before,  Martha? 
How  you  been  supporting  yourself  ?  Only 
sensible  one  in  the  family  pauperized,  by 
God.  Watson !" 

"Yes,  sir.  I  attended,  sir.  Immejately 
after  dinner,  sir.  It  shall  be  done  as  you 
have  enjoined  upon  me,  sir." 

"  D — n  your  Drj'den  and  Goldsmith,  Wat- 
son! D'ye  think  I'm  goin'  to  be  fed  this 
stuff  ?  Hand  me  the  spoon !  Thank  you, 
Mrs.  Rose.  Why  don't  we  have  apple-slump 
or  punkin-pie  once  'n  a  while,  Laura  ?  Feed- 
ing a  man  in  midwinter  on  a  squirting  lot  of 
frozen  pap  all  on  the  drip !" 
46 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

These  terms  were  fully  realized  as  Mrs. 
Rose  swathed  and  encircled  her  charge  with 
napkins,  fortifying  both  him  and  the  area 
about  him  at  all  points. 

"  Thank  you,  Mrs.  Rose.  Here ! — take  me 
out  of  my  winding-sheet !  I'm  done  drib- 
bling, thank  God  !  Take  the  coppers  off  my 
eyes,  and  the  tuberoses  and '  gate's  ajar '  off 
my  bosom.  Fools,  Martha !  Come,  Martha ! 
We  must  attend  to  that  check." 

"You  promised  me  a  game  of  backgam- 
mon, Mr.  Arundell." 

"Hear  that,  Laura?  Hear  that,  Nell? 
Mrs.  Rose !  Watson !  Ain't  after  her  own 
interests.  Thinks  of  an  old  man's  pleasure 
first.  D  —  n  it,  Martha,  you  make  an  old 
in  an  cry !  Well,  well — we'll  let  it  go,  for  a 
little,  but  I've  got  you  in  mind,  my  daughter. 
I've  got  you  in  mind.  Where  you  been  any 
way,  Martha?  I'll  have  niy  lawyers,  and 
nobody  shall  hold  me.  Watson!  That 
board!" 

"  Yes,  sir !  It  is  prepared,  sir.  And  your 
reclining-chair  in  the  right  position.  Now, 
sir,  let  me  assist  you — not  too  precipitate,  sir." 

"  Watson,  you  are  a  longitudinal  old  ass !" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

47 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE  nurse  took  up  her  stoically  attentive 
attitude  beside  him,  and  the  backgammon- 
board  was  placed  between  my  host  and  me. 

"Mustn't  try  to  let  me  beat,  Martha. 
Hate  to  be  coddled.  Play  your  best  ?" 

"  Certainly." 

"  Yery  much  attached  to  me,  Mrs.  Rose !" 
he  said,  turning  with  some  cynicism,  but  not 
unkindly,  to  that  substantial  shadow.  "  Well, 
well  —  let  her  look  on,  Martha.  Estimable 
woman — nothing  to  do — hangs  around  me. 
House  full  of  dawdling  idiots  —  somebody 
got  to  keep  'em." 

Mrs.  Rose,  with  unmoved  equanimity, 
gathered  up  his  dice  from  a  jocund  dance 
towards  the  piano,  and  replaced  them  in  the 
box.  He  threw,  at  last,  with  a  decision  that 
sent  the  chessmen  scattering  in  all  directions. 
His  attentive  shadow,  after  faithful  and 
long-continued  search,  set  them  again  on  the 
board. 

48 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

""Was  that  sixes  I  threw  —  some  weeks 
ago — there,  Martha?" 

"  Yes." 

."Sixes.  Ha!  ha!  Mrs.  Rose,  see  here, 
make  yourself  useful.  Move  these  men 
along  —  my  hand  trembles  a  little.  Play 
with  caution,  Mrs.  Rose — with  caution." 

That  gifted  individual,  without  further  ef- 
fort, assumed  at  once  a  transparent  air  of 
premeditation.  Before  it  became  necessary 
for  me  to  make  my  first  throw,  my  host  was 
peacefully  sleeping  with  his  mouth  wide  open. 

"  Do  you  wish  to  continue  the  game,  Miss 
Scheffer  ?"  said  the  nurse. 

"No,"  I  replied,  and  turned  to  the  other 
occupants  of  the  room,  among  whom  was 
now  Doctor  Clitus  Latimer,  the  obliging 
sender  of  telegrams.  I  did  not  hesitate  to 
direct  towards  him  a  glance  of  frank  indig- 
nation, which,  I  will  do  him  the  justice  to 
say,  he  received  without  dream  of  a  blush. 
He  rose  and  bowed : 

"I  am  one  of  the  most  enthusiastic,  Miss 
Scheffer,  in  welcoming  your  sex  to  our  fra- 
ternity. I  hear  you  are  entering  the  pro- 
fession. I  approve  of  it.  I  consider  the  co- 
operation of  your  sex  indispensable." 
D  49 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

» 
"Well,  I  am  not   rushing   towards   the 

goal,"  I  rejoined,  and  although  I  spoke  in 
extremely  quiet  tones,  I  felt  that  Madam 
Arundell  was  shocked  that  any  one  should 
carry  into  good  society,  and  that  without 
apparent  reason,  such  a  villanously  expres- 
sive countenance. 

"  You  will  arrive  there  with  just  so  much 
the  more  practical  ability,  Miss  Scheffer,"  he 
said. 

"  I  am  aware,"  I  replied,  "  that  it  is  main- 
ly practical." 

Madam  Arundell  seemed  afflicted  with  a 
thought  that  I  might  fling  the  furniture. 
"  What  a  charming  day  it  has  been,  doc- 
tor !"  she  exclaimed. 

"  Charming !  You  are  taking  the  capsules 
regularly,  Mrs.  Arundell  ?" 

"I  obey  you,  always,  doctor,"  she  said, 
with  a  sweet  laugh. 

My  host  woke  up  with  a  baffled  snore. 
"Who's  there?  heh?  heh?  Oh  — earning 
another  five  dollars  prescribing  sugar-plums 
to  the  women,  eh,  doctor?  Well,  well — 
welcome  to  it.  Always  dressed  up  like  a 
window-form — black  whiskers,  pink  cheeks 
— always  welcome  here,  doctor;  somebody 
50 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

got  to  support  'em.  Martha !  "Where's  Mar- 
tha?" 

"  She  is  here,  Forrester,"  replied  Madam 
Arundell,  soothingly,  with  the  faintest  pos- 
sible tinge  of  irony  in  her  voice. 

"  Glad  to  have  ye  home.  Mustn't  give 
the  old  gentleman  the  slip  again,  Martha — 
lost  without  ye.  Laura !" 

"  Yes,  Forrester." 

"  Come  over  here  and  we'll  have  a  game 
of  backgammon,  Laura.  Let  the  young 
folks  talk — needn't  be  afraid.  Martha  ain't 
go'n'  to  take  up  with  any  of  your  stand- 
ard-cut, robin -breasted  window-forms,  he! 

he!  nor  any  of  your  d d  sugar -plums, 

either." 

Madam  Arundell  rose  with  a  resigned 
sigh.  The  nurse,  seeing  her  charge  so  tran- 
quilly sleeping,  had  retired  to  the  basement 
for  a  little  jaunting  with  the  domestics. 
Katherine  Eleanor,  with  the  Arundell  trait 
of  easy  sleeping,  had  been  for  some  time  re- 
clining on  the  sofa  in  soft  and  sound  repose  ; 
her  saint -like  features  lay  in  sweet  relief 
against  the  crimson  velvet. 

Madam  Arundell  touched  the  electric  bell 
before  seating  herself ;  the  nurse  appeared ; 
51 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

the  throwing  of  dice  and  scattering  of  chess- 
men recommenced. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  Miss  Arundell  ?" 
said  I,  fixing  on  Doctor  Latimer  a  look  de- 
void of  all  sentiment  save  the  one  "not  to 
let  go  "  till  I  had  a  reasonable  answer. 

"Miss  Scheffer,  I  have  been  the  family 
physician  here  for  fifteen  years."  The  scorn- 
ful curl  on  my  own  lips  was  suddenly  met 
by  an  injured  sneer  on  his  part.  "  The  of- 
fices are  not  those  of  a  quack." 

He  picked  up  a  book  and  stared  angrily 
at  the  cover.  "  It  is  about  once  in  a  decade 
that  Miss  Katherine  Eleanor  Arundell  sets 
out  to  have  her  own  way.  If,  knowing  the 
case,  you  have  any  counter-stimulant  to  pre- 
scribe save  immediate  graceful  concession 
to  her  wishes,  kindly  produce  it ! 

"I  am  not  vilifying  Miss  Arundell.  In 
fact,  I  never  knew  a  sweeter  disposition. 
But,  as  I  said,  a  few  times  strikingly  in  the 
flight  of  years,  she  has  set  her  heart  on  some 
object.  Once  we  stood  firm.  I  saw  spasms, 
fits,  the  flesh  empurpled,  shrieks,  ravings, 
and  at  last  a  solid  hour  of  unaffected  death- 
like unconsciousness.  Do  not  misunderstand 
me;  she  is,  normally,  tranquil,  sweet,  for- 
52 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

giving,  but  when,  semi-annually,  as  it  were, 
we  hear  the  mutterings  of  that  distant  cy- 
clone, we  do  not  propose  expedients,  we  do 
not  discuss  metaphysical  subtleties  —  we 
obey." 

"  I  consider  it  all  nonsense." 

"  You  are  very  kind  to  say  so !  When 
Miss  Arundell — some  days  ago — expressed  a 
desire  to  send  for  her  friend — Miss  Scheffer 
— her  grandmother  objected.  You  may  be 
able  to  imagine  reasons  why  Mrs.  Arundell 
should  prefer  to  keep  her  domestic  circle  ex- 
clusive and  retired!  "Well,  the  signs  ap- 
peared. The  grandmother  yielded,  not 
only  speedily,  but,  I  may  almost  say,  fawn- 
ingly. 

"  You  are  aware,  Miss  Scheffer,  that  fami- 
ly traits,  not  to  be  considered  in  the  patho- 
logical sense  of  physical  subversion,  and  cer- 
tainly not  of  insanity,  yet  sometimes  reach  an 
abnormal  state  of  development." 

"  I  am  aware,"  I  said,  "  that  wilfulness  has 
sometimes  been  whipped  out  of  people !" 

"  I  should  say,"  said  he,  with  an  enraged 
smile,  "that  you  could  hardly  put  yourself 
forward  as  a  successful  example  of  such 
caustic  discipline !" 

53 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"  They're  quarrellin',  Laura — he  !  he  ! — 
look  at  'em  !  Red  as  lobsters  !  I  told  you 
Martha  was  enough  for  him." 

"  Mr.  Beeman  Price !"  said  Watson,  at  the 
door. 

I  looked  up,  and  saw  a  stout  iron-gray 
man,  with  features  sardonically  sordid ;  a 
large  wart  grew  out  of  one  ear,  his  hands 
were  soiled,  and  he  held  a  stick  in  one  corner 
of  his  hard  mouth. 

"  Dear  Mr.  Price !"  said  Mrs.  Arundell, 
rising,  "  you  have  come  at  the  right  time. 
We  were  sinking  into  family  ennui." 

"  Pish !  Great  'ongwee' !  Martha  and  the 
doctor,  over  there,  were  just  getting  up  a 
fight !  'Shamed  of  ye,  Laura — always  after 
money-bags — got  enough  of  our  own,"  as- 
serted our  host,  nonplussed,  and  slightly 
offended  at  being  left  alone  with  his  nurse 
and  his  demoralized  backgammon-board. 

"  Eleanor !"  cried  Madam  Arundell,  in  her 
peculiarly  winning  voice,  "  Eleanor,  here  is 
Mr.  Price !" 

Eleanor  opened  her  dream-entangled  eyes, 
and  realized  the  fact.     "  Grandmamma,"  said 
she,  peevishly,  "  I'm  dead  with  sleep,"  and 
turned  again  to  repose. 
54 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

Doctor  Latiraer  looked  over  at  me  and 
leered. 

Beeraan  Price  reached  out  facetiously  with 
his  cane.  The  tip  of  one  of  Eleanor's  slip- 
pered feet  was  visible  under  her  robe ;  he 
gave  her  foot  a  decisive  jog  with  his  cane. 

The  girl  sprang  to  a  sitting  posture  like  a 
flame,  snatched  the  fan  at  her  side,  and  threw 
it  with  smashing  force  against  his  foul  shirt- 
bosom. 

He  laughed.  Madam  Arundell's  delicate 
old  face  was  red  with  mortification.  "  "What 
conduct!"  she  exclaimed.  "We  are  really 
becoming  barbarians,  Mr.  Price.  "We  have 
been  so  long,  in  a  sense,  shut  off  from  society." 

"'Barbarians!'  We  ain't,  neither  !"  said 

our  host.  "  We're  a  lot  of  d d  fools ! — all 

except  Martha.  Served  him  right !  He 
ain't  go'n'  to  have  her.  Leave  it  to  you, 
Martha.  Leave  every  thing  to  you — goin'  to 
bed.  Sick  of  it — fiddlin'  around  here  with 
idiots.  Where's  my  night-nurse  ?  He  !  he ! 
Where's  the  Kev.  Solibeg  ?  Ring  the  bell, 
Mrs.  Rose." 

A  grave  young  man  in  spectacles  appeared. 
He  stiffly  offered  his  arm  to  our  host. 

"  Good  -  night !"  Leaning  on  the  young 
55 


man's  arm,  he  tottered  over  to  me.  "  Good- 
night, Martha.  Glad  to  have  ye  home.  God 
bless  ye !  Mustn't  go  off  and  leave  the  poor 
old  man  again.  Look  out  for  things.  I  de- 
pend on  ye,  Martha — depend  on  ye."  His 
voice  trembled,  he  patted  my  hand  an  instant, 
paternally,  with  his  soft,  trembling  old  fin- 
gers. u  Good-night !" 

"  He  seems  quite  elated  by  Miss  Scheffer's 
advent,"  remarked  the  doctor,  in  a  voice 
suggestive  of  pleasantry. 

"  He  fails,"  sighed  Mrs.  Arundell.  "  Poor 
man  !  I  do  not  consider  him  accountable  for 
anything.  And,"  she  continued,  as  if  ad- 
dressing Beeman  Price  alone  in  personal  con- 
fidence, "  his  brother  having  insisted  on  his 
being  relieved  from  all  guardianship,  in  one 
sense,  his  actions,  if  not  watched,  would  be 
simply  disastrous." 

"  Ought  to  be  shut  up — shut  up,"  clapped 
the  mouth  of  Beeman  Price. 

Eleanor  looked  as  though  she  were  reach- 
ing for  another  missile. 

"  Going  to  the  play  with  me  to-morrow 
night,    Miss    Eleanor?"   said   her    admirer. 
"Very  idle,  expensive  business,  but  I'm  for- 
giving— see!    I'll  do  anything  you  wish." 
56 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"  No,  I  am  not !  I  wish  you  would  take 
that  dirty  stick  out  of  your  mouth !" 

"  Eleanor !" 

"  All  right.  Some  men  chew  tobacco,  my 
pretty  lady.  But  I  obey.  Old  position  re- 
versed, they  say.  We  say,  '  I  obey J  now. 
Ur-r-r  !  Any  other  commands  ?" 

Eleanor  looked  as  though  she  were  about 
to  suggest  in  detail  other  vivid  needs  of  per- 
sonal cleanliness. 

"Eleanor,"  interposed  Madam  Arundell, 
"I  really  think  you  are  half  asleep  yet. 
You  will  come  to  dine,  Sunday,  as  usual, 
dear  Mr.  Price?  There  are  some  matters 
about  which  I  wish  to  consult  with  you.  I 
really  am  so  dependent  upon  you  for  ad- 
vice." 

"Hear  that,  Miss  Eleanor?  But  your 
grandmother's  adviser  ain't  good  enough 
to  advise  you,  is  he?" 

"  No !" 

"  She  is  foolish  with  sleep.  Eleanor,  you 
may  be  excused  and  retire  to  your  room. 
You  certainly  are  not  fit  for  any  society 
except  that  of  your  maid." 

Eleanor  came  over  to  me,  slipped  her  arm 
through  mine,  raised  me,  looking,  meanwhile, 
87 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

as  if  she  had  no  other  prop  or  stay  in  all  the 
world. 

No  sooner  were  we  in  the  hall  than  she 
burst  into  passionate  weeping. 

"  Come,"  I  said,  "  where  is  your  room  ? 
Do  not  let  them  hear  you  boo-hooing  here." 

"  She  weeps — my  affliction  !  She  weeps !" 
Another  aspect  of  this  discursive  household 
now  presented  itself — a  middle-aged  French- 
woman, with  a  countenance  of  tragic  woe. 
Eleanor  clung  to  me.  Together,  we  put  this 
special  moral  imbecile  to  bed.  An  Irish 
house-maid  was  dawdling  officiously  about 
the  room.  She  sniffed,  not  too  audibly,  and 
sang  in  resolute  murmurs : 

"The  old  man  says  to  his  wife,  says  he, 
Says  he  and  says  I, 
And  says  I,  and  says  he." 

"Mar'an!"  said  the  Frenchwoman,  with 
sarcasm,  "  you  have  a  tune  indeed  !  Ravish- 
ment !  Mon  Dieu !  '  Ce  ce'  and  '  ci  ci /' 
Pah !" 

The  vocalist  did  not  reply.  She  had  an 
air  of  pent-up  contemplation  : 

"  The  old  man  says  to  his  wife,  says  he, 
Says  he  and  says  I, 
And  says  I,  and  says  he." 
58 


CHAPTER  X 

IT  had  been  my  firm  intention  to  tell  these 
gifted  of  wealth  and  station,  before  I  retired 
for  the  night,  that  I  should  take  the  first 
train  back  to  my  college  in  the  morning — to 
point  out  to  Eleanor  with  impressive  serious- 
ness her  unheard-of — nay,  more — her  wicked 
conduct,  in  sending  for  me  as  she  had  done — 
and  to  depart. 

Instead  of  that  I  had  been  obliged  to  do 
my  utmost  to  adminster  consolation  to  her. 
White,  quivering,  with  tear-stained  eyes,  she 
had  at  last  moaned  and  trembled  into  sleep. 
It  was  not  the  tempest  of  which  Doctor 
Latimer  had  told ;  but  evidently  she  had 
reached  some  signal  crisis  in  her  stratagem 
of  life ! 

I  found  myself,  at  near  midnight,  in  my 
own  room,  in  an  amazing  state  of  mind. 

I  smiled,  therefore,  as  I  brushed  out  my 
hair,  to  see  how  firm  was  the  brown  hand 
that  flew  up  and  down  at  this  occupation. 
59 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

Here,  in  surrounding  sumptuousness,  under 
the  gas-lights,  a  hand  that  had  much  swept, 
delved,  and  brewed,  held  the  rod  of  the  rural 
school-mistress,  battled  with  illness  in  its 
direst  forms — a  brown,  unlovely,  virile,  heart- 
less hand. 

"  Thwarted  again !  but  I  can  as  well  make 
my  adieus  in  the  morning,"  I  declared. 

Out  of  the  shadows  came  another  hand, 
soft,  palsied,  white,  and  fell  on  mine.  "Leave 
it  with  you,  Martha.  Depend  upon  you, 
Martha." 

Was  there  ever  anything  so  preposterous  ? 
I  shook  the  feeble  ghostly  old  hand  off.  It 
reached  out  again  from  the  shadows  and 
arrested  mine.  I  sank  down  by  the  bed. 
"  These  people  are  nothing  to  me,"  I  prayed; 
"  they,  with  their  servants  for  every  need.  It 
is  right  for  me  to  go  my  own  hard-earned 
way  at  last,  and  at  once.  But  I  cannot 
think !" 

The  brown  hands  clasped  the  bewildered 
head  to  press  it  into  resolution ;  the  afflicted 
head  at  last  began  to  sink  low ;  the  Arundell 
doom  of  sleep  was  upon  me. 

"  Are  you  awakened,  mum  ?  Breakfast  at 
half  after  eight,  if  you  please,  mum."  Wat- 
60 


son  intoned  at  my  door.  "  Mary  Ann  has 
probably  been  deliquescent  in  awaking  you, 
mum." 

I  dressed  with  resolved  hands,  but  still 
with  a  fretful  and  disturbed  head,  and  de- 
scended to  the  chaste  silver  and  elaborate 
service  of  the  breakfast-table.  I  was  alone. 

"  Mrs.  Arundell  presents  her  compliments, 
mum,  and  begs  that  you  will  excuse  her  vale- 
dictorian habit  of  taking  her  morning  repast 
in  her  room.  Mr.  Arundell  is  not  yet  awaken- 
ed, mum.  Miss  Eleanor  has  a  headache,  but 
sends  her  affection  and  will  be  with  you 
presently.  The  fruit  is  always  to  be  recom- 
mended, mum.  As  the  poet  says — " 

"  "Watson,"  I  said,  "  will  you  see  that  I 
have  a  cab  to  catch  the  noon  express  ?" 

"Watson,  in  broadcloth  so  choice  that  it 
seemed  hardly  material  at  all,  stood  firm  and 
moved  his  reverend  lips : 

"  It  must  not  be,  mum." 

"  And  why  not,  pray  ?"  I  blazed,  scornful- 
ly, with  malignant  eyes.  "  Certainly,  then, 
I  will  order  my  own." 

He  closed  the  hall  door,  where  the  flitting 
form  of  a  servant,  now  and  then,  appeared, 
and  stepped  softly  to  me. 
61 


"  Pardon  me  humbly,  mum.  You  have  ob- 
served the  peculiar  exegesis  of  this  household  ? 
Bear  with  me ;  did  you  commune  last  night 
with  your  God,  mum  ?" 

"  I  will  have  an  orange,  "Watson."  The 
orange  was  sweet ;  my  face  was  contemptu- 
ous and  sour. 

"  The  fish  is  specially  to  be  recommended, 
mum.  We  are,  as  a  family,  rather  debilitat- 
ed. As  the  poet  says, 

"  '  Swate  bells  jangling  out  their  tune  !"' 

I  laughed.  "Watson's  prelatical  counte- 
nance expressed  satisfaction.  "  You  don't  like 
the  ice- water  ?  It  shall  be  modified,  mum." 
He  trotted  away  with  the  great  silver  pitcher. 
""Wat-son,"  he  murmured,  returning,  "son 
of  "Watts !  Pardon  the  personal  illusion  to 
myself — accounts  for  my  constant  leaning  to 
the  classics.  "Watts  ! — a  religious  poet  of  the 
early  centuries,  rather  dogmatical.  I,  my- 
self, am  wholly  latitudinal,  mum." 

I  smiled.  The  aroma  of  my  coffee  was  a 
revelation. 

"Beware  of  Mary  Ann,  mum."  It  was 
with  officious  dignity  that  "Watson  now  bent 
62 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

towards  my  ear.     "Permit  me  to  whisper 
'  caution !'  mum." 

"  Ah !  Is  she  the  one  who  sings  '  Says  he 
and  says  I,'  Watson  ?" 

"The  same." 

"  She  seems  no  more  dangerous  than  the 
rest,"  I  was  pleased  to  commune  with  myself. 
But  "Watson  did  not  mind ;  his  sacerdotal 
eye  rested  sternly  on  the  door;  he  sprang 
forward  and  opened  it.  Mary  Ann,  apparent- 
ly merely  passing  with  her  dust-cloth,  flapped 
him  over  the  head  with  it.  A  scene  ensued 
of  a  sort  with  which  experience,  amid  less 
ornate  surroundings,  had  made  me  familiar. 
I  contemplated  it  from  time  to  time,  as  I 
calmly  pursued  my  breakfast.  Archbishopric 
coat-tails  and  menial  white  apron  flashed  be- 
fore me  in  vivid  warfare.  Slaps  and  pushes, 
deliberate  rather  than  alarmingly  violent, 
formed  the  scheme  of  action.  The  stout 
house-maid  conquered ;  the  time-honored  up- 
holder of  the  Arundell  family  arms  lay 
gently  sprawling  on  the  floor. 

I  assumed  not  to  have  observed  this  as  he 
entered,  soon  after,  with  unimpaired  dignity. 

"I  find  it  necessary  sometimes,"  he  en- 
lightened me,  slightly  out  of  breath,  "  to  ad- 
63 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

minister  chastisement  in  the  case  of  some  of 
the  lower  servants.  I  have  expressly  for- 
bidden Mary  Ann  to  bear  the  morning  let- 
ters to  their  precipitants.  I  wrested  them 
from  her,  -though  with  difficulty.  Yours 
repose  on  the  table  in  the  library,  mum." 

I  had  the  fewest  possible  letters  in  any 
place.  That  here,  where  I  had  passed  but 
one  strange  night,  my  morning  post  receipts 
should  be  spoken  of  in  the  plural  was  edify- 
ing, and,  I  believed,  another  phase  of  "Wat- 
son's always  competent  grandeur  of  speech. 

Yet  it  was  one.  Having  regarded  with 
indifferent  amusement  the  magazines,  now 
nearly  a  month  old,  lying  with  uncut  pages 
on  the  table,  Eleanor's  specious  novel,  turned 
flat  to  keep  the  place,  the  newspapers,  placed 
in  a  position  to  absorb  hygienic  warmth  from 
the  fire,  I  did  glance  farther  and  saw  a  letter. 

It  bore  my  name  in  characters  too  atro- 
ciously bold  to  suggest  doubt.  I  opened  it : 

"Mr  DEAR  Miss  SCHEFFER, — Nell  telegraphed  me 
you  are  with  us.  I  never  was  moredelited  at  anything. 

"  I  am  doing  fine,  all  over  my  cold,  and  got  part  of  a 
new  suite  of  clothes.  I  wear  my  hat  plum,  forever- 
more. 

"  I  often  think  of  what  you  said,  I  must  not  presume, 
and  ask  you  to  forgive  me.  But  the  first  time  I  met  you 
64 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

I  turned  from  what  I  was.  This  is  straight.  But  you  are 
right.  I  had  no  right  to  presume  till  I  was  more  worthy 
(which  could  never  be),  but  you  might  think  more  so. 
And  I  prommis  never  to  be  gilty  by  act  or  speech  again 
to  presume  to  express  affection  till  I  may  be  more  so. 
"  Yours  with  the  love  of  all  my  harte, 

"FORRESTER." 


CHAPTER  XI 

WITH  this  endearing  and  consistent  effort 
in  my  hand,  I  still  stood  before  the  fire  when 
Madam  Arundell  entered  the  room. 

"  Did  you  sleep  well,  dear  Miss  Scheffer?" 
she  said,  effusively. 

"Here,"  I  merely  thought,  "is  another 
moral  imbecile  with  a  scheme." 

She,  too,  closed  the  door  confidentially. 

"  You  are,  I  think,"  she  murmured,  in  her 
peculiarly  sweet  voice,  "one  likely  to  be 
touched  by  the  needs  of  affliction  ?  My  poor 
husband  and  my  grandchild  have  taken  such 
an  instinctive  liking  to  you,  Miss  Scheffer, 
let  me  add  a  reasonable  word  on  my  own 
account." 

I  was  in  a  mood  to  smile  rather  bitterly  at 
the  lady's  unconscious  lack  of  flattery. 

"  Why  not  remain  with  us  a  while  ?   I 

know  that  this  is  an  unwarrantable  request 

to  make,  absorbed  as  you  are  in  your  studies, 

but,  I  can  assure  you,  the  consequences  wiD 

66 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

be  very  hard  indeed  for  me  to  bear  if  you 
do  not." 

"Whatever  there  may  have  been  to  criticise 
in  this  frank  attitude  of  mind,  she  was  angel- 
ically refined  of  feature  and  she  was  very  old. 
The  lace  at  her  wrists  trembled  a  little.  Her 
eye  fell  on  the  letter,  which  I  had  made  no 
attempt  to  conceal. 

"  Eleanor  tells  me  you  have  her  entire  con- 
fidence. You  know,  then,  that  she  is  engaged 
to  Mr.  Price,  and  that  the  marriage  is  to 
take  place  early  next  month.  She  has  al- 
ways been  a  peculiar  child,  and  the  early 
death  of  her  parents  left  me  with  respon- 
sibilities which  now,  especially  with  my  age 
and  delicate  health,  I  really  do  not  know 
how  to  cope  with,  Miss  Scheffer.  For  her 
sake,  above  all,  I  shall  be  glad  when  she  is 
married  to  this  estimable  man,  of  very,  very 
great  wealth." 

She  looked  keenly  and  impressively  at  me, 
as  though  a  god  had  been  mentioned  whose 
attributes  I,  as  a  poor  student,  could  hardly 
appreciate. 

I  dangled  the  unfolded  letter  in  my  hand. 

"  Excuse  me  " — a  bright  red  spot  glowed 
in  the  centre  of  her  still  pretty,  old  cheeks — 
67 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"  as  my  eye  glanced  at  the  general  style  of 
your  correspondent's  handwriting,  it  remind- 
ed me  of  something  familiar." 

"  It  is  a  letter  from  your  grandson." 

11  To  youf" 

"  To  me." 

"  Pray—" 

"  Let  me  read  it  to  you.  I  have  met  him 
but  three  times  in  my  life.  He,  like  your 
granddaughter,  has  doubtless  always  been  a 
peculiar  child.  Is  it  any  wonder  that  you 
should  wish  to  delegate,  or,  at  least,  share 
your  maternal  duties !" 

I  read  in  a  voice  certainly  cool  of  all  sen- 
timent. 

She  looked  steadfastly  at  me.  "  You  are 
a  sensible  young  woman!"  she  exclaimed, 
sharply.  "  Where  is  he  ?" 

"He  is  conductor  on  a  street -car  in 
B ." 

The  red  spots  flamed  vividly  in  her  cheeks. 
"  Is  that  the  best  he  could  accomplish  ?  In- 
stead of  returning,  and  confessing  to  me  his 
desire  to  reform — when  turned,  temporarily, 
for  his  own  salvation,  to  his  own  resources — 
he  chooses  to  absent  himself  indefinitely,  and 
to  plunge  instead  into  the  utmost  disgrace !" 
68 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"I  cannot  think  that.  I  am  a  working- 
woman  myself,  you  know." 

Her  face  turned  white  and  calm  again,  but 
with  an  indefinable,  inflexible  stamp  of  con- 
tempt. "  He  would  better  continue,  then,  at 
his  very  dignified  and  remunerative  employ- 
ment !" 

"  I  quite  agree  with  you." 

"  Well " — she  drew  a  long  sigh — "  I  esteem 
you  as  a  very  sensible  woman,  Miss  Scheffer. 
You  regard  our  sad  family  confidences,  of 
course,  as  sacred  ?" 

"  It  has  become  the  business  of  my  life  in 
all  ways  to  foster  them." 

"  And  now  as  to  Eleanor  ?" 

«  Well— as  to  Eleanor  ?" 

"  Beernan  Price  has  not  a  vice,  Miss  Schef- 
fer. Consider  that,  in  this  age  and  city ! 
Not  a  single  vice." 

"Yes,  he  struck  me  as  being  very  eco- 
nomical." 

"  It  is  well,  is  it  not,"  sighed  Madam  Arun- 
dell,  plaintively,  and,  I  must  say,  with  a  very 
sanctimonious  face,  "to  be  economical  in 
the  matter  of  vices?  Dear  Miss  Scheffer, 
you  have  the  most  remarkable  influence  over 
my  precious  child.  The  sooner  such  a  capri- 
69 


cious  nature  is  settled,  the  better,  is  it  not  ? 
And  with  a  guide  so  trustworthy !  You 
alone  seem  to  have  any  positive  influence 
in  the  least  with  her.  Will  you  not  exert 
it  to  help  me — " 

"  "Where's  Martha  ?"  The  door  swung  open. 
"  Oh,  oh !  Good-morning,  Martha !  Glad  to 
have  ye  home  again.  How  d'  do,  Laura  ? — 
looking  very  pious  this  morning — up  to  mis- 
chief, I  expect — he,  he !  Come  over  here  in 
the  light  and  read  the  .papers  to  me,  Martha. 
God  bless  ye !  Ain't  one  in  the  family  can 
read  except  Laura,  and  she  makes  an  ever- 
lastin'  psalm  tune  of  it  all.  Come,  come, 
Martha !  Bless  ye,  my  daughter." 

There  were  two  enormous  chairs  in  the 
sunny  bay-window.  He  sat  down  in  one, 
assisted  by  his  valet,  and  smacked  his  lips 
with  delectation. 

"  Read  it  right  along,  Martha — murders, 
divorce  -  suits  —  the  whole  business.  Laura 
picks  and  prunes  so  damnably,  I  'ain't  had 
a  taste  of  news  since  you  went  away." 

He  was  very  fine ;  he  shone  from  his  bath 

and  was  rosy -cheeked  from  his  breakfast, 

every  particle  of  which  had  been  removed 

from  his  polished  person,  except  a  small  hot- 

70 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

water  urn  containing  the  remains  of  some 
fried  pan-fish,  which  the  attendant,  now  dis- 
covering protruding  from  his  coat-tail  pock- 
et, bore  gravely  away. 

I  began  a  tragedy  in  the  Times,  he  leaning 
towards  me  with  his  mouth  wide  open  and  a 
look  of  great  relish  in  his  kind  old  eyes.  I 
had  read  but  a  few  sentences  when  his  voice 
suddenly  interrupted  me : 

"  Has  Augusta  called  yet,  Laura  ?" 

"  Forrester,  dear,  you  have  asked  Miss 
Scheffer  to  have  the  kindness  to  read  to  you, 
and  now  really  you  are  interrupting  her." 

"  No,  I  ain't,  either.  Martha  wants  to 
know  whether  Augusta's  called  as  well  as  I. 
Has  she?" 

"No." 

"  Well,  why  don't  she  get  along  early  and 
get  it  over  with  ?" 

"  Because  she  wishes  to  find  you  dressed 
and  ready  to  receive  her,  I  suppose." 

"  Martha's  here  now  to  entertain  her.  She 
might  get  along  early  and  get  it  over  with, 
I  should  think." 

After  this  I  was  conscious  that  he  mut- 
tered a  great  deal  and  that  his  gaze  turned 
continually  to  the  window. 
71 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

Presently  I  looked  there  myself.  A  state- 
ly equipage  had  stopped  and  a  good  and 
beaming  face  appeared  at  the  carriage  door ; 
a  footman  held  out  his  arms  to  her  on  one 
side ;  Watson,  who  had  now  arrived  to  sup- 
plement the  scene,  reached  out  to  her  from 
the  other ;  a  mature  maid  stood  in  the  back- 
ground. Thus,  with  one  foot  poised  ponder- 
ously on  the  step,  she  was,  without  doubt, 
delivering  some  lengthy  address ;  her  lips 
moved,  and  her  gloved  finger  was  pointed  in 
warning  or  persuasion  at  one  or  another  of 
her  obsequious  audience. 

On  the  solid  earth  she  paused  again.  In 
alighting,  her  bonnet  had  hit  against  some 
obstacle  and  hung  quite  off  her  head.  She 
seemed  unconscious  of  the  maid's  efforts  to 
restore  it,  pointing  now  at  poor  Watson, 
her  countenance  alive  with  benign  emotion 
and  her  speech  apparently  flowing  in  a  river. 

"  Laura,  Laura !  Here's  Augusta,  lecturin' 
as  usual,  with  her  bunnit  on  her  ear !" 

But  Mrs.  Arundell  had  left  the  room  to 
meet  her  guest. 

"  Stay  right  where  you  are,  Martha.  Al- 
ways stick  by  your  poor  old  father,  Martha." 

After  some  considerable  time,  in  which  I 
72 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

read  aloud  to  my  host,  while  he  conversed 
in  a  still  louder  tone  with  himself,  the  door 
opened,  and  she,  with  Madam  Arundell  in 
her  wake,  came  in. 

"  Dear,  dear  Forrester !"  she  said,  and  hav- 
ing reached  him,  in  a  great  deal  of  majesty 
of  rustling  raiment,  she  clasped  both  his 
hands  in  hers,  and  bent  to  him. — "  how  are 
ypu,  dear  ?" 

"  Pretty  well — pretty  well — very  well  in- 
deed, 'Gusta.  Take  a  chair,  'Gusta — lots  of 
chairs.  Watson !  Watson !" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  that  ubiquitous  one. 

"  See  that  Mrs.  John  Arundell  has  a  loung- 
ing-chair,  Watson  —  comfortable  one  —  big 
one  't  she  can  lay  back  in." 

"  Place  it  right  here,  Watson,"  said  the 
good  lady — "  beside  my  brother.  And  this," 
she  said,  temporarily  coming  over  to  hold 
me  in  her  love — "  this  is  the  dear  Miss  Schef- 
fer,  of  whom  you  and  dear  Eleanor  have  told 
me,  Laura  ?  I  rejoice  to  see  you.  Are  you 
well,  dear?"  As  I  rose  she  folded  me  with 
much  choice  lace  and  perfume  of  violets  to 
her  bosom. 

"  You  are  serving  the  Lord,  dear  ?"  she 
said,  in  a  genuinely  gentle  voice. 
73 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"  I  do  not  know,"  I  replied.  "  I  am  rather 
confused.  I  hope  so." 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  Mrs.  Arundell,  speaking 
boldly,  I  will  say,  on  my  behalf,  "  she  be- 
longs to  our  fold,  Augusta." 

"Lot  of  sheep,  eh?"  said  my  perturbed 
host,  and  tried  to  laugh. 

"  Yes,  dear  Forrester,"  said  Madam  John 
Arundell,  taking  the  chair  which  Watson 
had  supplied  arm  to  arm  with  that  afflicted 
being's — "yes,  dear,  we  are  sheep,  and  we 
have  a  shepherd.  Are  you  not  ready  yet, 
dear  Forrester,  to  give  your  heart  to  Him  ?" 

"  Stay  right  where  ye  are,  Martha."  I  had 
not  moved.  "  Eh  ?  What's  that  ?  Hearts  ? 
— don't  want  our  hearts — everybody  givin' 
Him  their  hearts !  Wants  our  money  too — 
wants  our  work — wants  our  lives — Bible  says 
so.  Start  out  to  do  it,  and  get  chucked  in 
the  mad -house!  Poor  Lord  Christ,  wan- 
derin'  around — everybody  givin'  Him  their 
hearts — no  end  o'  hearts — nothin'  else — sh'd 
think  He'd  be  sick  of  it !  Lots  of  hypocrites, 
stackin'  up  their  money,  and  givin'  Him  their 
hearts !  Don't  want  to  hear  anything  more 
about  it.  Lay  back  in  your  chair,  'Gusta — 
nice  chair — cost  a  hundred  and  fifty  dollars, 
74 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

that  chair.  Glad  to  see  ye,  'Gusta — how  d' 
do  ?  Lay  back  and  take  it  easy,  'Gusta." 

The  two  good  ladies  sighed.  Madam  John 
Arundell  still  retained  her  clasp  on  her 
brother's  hand. 

"Where  is  dear  Eleanor?"  she  said. 

"I  do  not  know,"  replied  madam, "I  will 
have  her  called.  Eleanor  is  always  very  re- 
miss about  appearing  in  the  morning.  "Wat- 
son !  have  Miss  Arundell  called  to  the  library 
immediately." 

"  Instantly,  mum." 

Eleanor  came  in  like  a  brilliant  flower, 
gushing  with  the  family  gush.  "Dear 
auntie !"  she  said,  and  was  lost  in  the  con- 
ventional embrace. 

"  Are  you  striving,  my  darling  ?"  said  the 
great-aunt. 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  beautiful  one,  with  her 
saint-like  largeness  of  vision — as  striving  she 
certainly  was,  in  more  ways  than  one. 

"Dear  child,"  said  the  lady,  now  with  her 
first  accents  of  content.  "Will  you  read 
this  little  booklet  which  I  have  brought  to 
you,  Eleanor?" 

"  Yery  carefully,  auntie,"  replied  the  ap- 
proved one,  tenderly  receiving  it. 

75 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"  Watson !  will  you  give  these  among  the 
servants,  reserving  one  for  yourself  ?" 

"Certainly,  mum.  Thank  you,  indeed, 
mum.  Very  interesting  literature  in  ap- 
pearance, mum." 

"And  will  you  particularly  have  Mary 
Ann  sent  up  to  me  a  moment,  Watson  ?" 

"  Certainly,  mum.     She  nades  it,  mum." 

'Mary  Ann,  dubious  but  stout,  marched  in 
with  an  enviable  wealth  of  color,  fingering 
her  apron. 

"  Mary  Ann,  will  you  promise  me  to  read 
this  little  booklet  ?" 

"  Yis,  mum,  if  the  words  is  aisy,  I'll  do  it 
for  ye  with  pleasure !"  said  Mary  Ann,  with 
a  belligerent  cast  of  her  eye  towards  Watson. 

"And  appropriate  it  to  yourself?" 

"  Do  what,  if  you  pl'ase,  mum  ?" 

"  Let  its  precepts  sink  into  your  heart  ?" 

"I  will  that!"  recklessly  affirmed  Mary 
Ann,  anxious  to  comport  herself  creditably, 
but,  above  all,  to  get  out  of  the  room. 

"  You  may  go,  then." 

"  Laura,"  said  she,  turning  at  last  to  our 
very  hostess  herself,  "  do  you  still  have  the 
dangerous  cup  on  your  table  ?" 

"Just  a  little  Sauterne,  dear  sister,"  said 

76 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

Madam  Arundell,  winningly — "as  harmless 
as  water,  you  know.'1 

"  "Worse  'n  water !"  said  our  host.  "  Have 
it  when  you  dine  with  us,  'Gusta  —  other 
times  we  have  port  and  sherry  and  cham- 
pagne. Huh !" 

"  Is  this  so,  dear  sister  ?" 

Madam  Arundell's  calm  and  perfect  face 
was  a  study  for  the  psychologist.  "Oh, 
sometimes,  possibly — of  a  very  light  quality, 
dear  Augusta." 

"  'Tain't,  neither !  they're  good  and  heavy, 
or  we  wouldn't  have  'em.  We  get  all  our 
wines  of  Percival.  Go  to  Percival  to  get 
your  wines,  'Gusta,  and  know  what  you're 
drinkin'.  Glad  to  see  ye,  'Gusta — how  d' 
do  ? — lay  back  and  take  it  easy." 

"Dear  brother,  the  sacred  gift  of  pure 
water  alone  sparkles  on  iny  board." 

"  Croton  bugs,  eh  ?  Oh  yes — I  remember — 
used  to  dine  with  ye,  you  know.  Lord,  how 
we  used  to  dread  it !  Laura !  remember  how 
we  used  to  dread  going  to  'Gusta's  to  dine  ? 
Give  it  up,  'Gusta.  Very  fond  of  you — 
good  woman,  but  gettin'  too  old  to  run  long 
on  water — flop  up  sudden  one  of  these  days. 

Glad  to  see  ye.    Stay  and  dine — get  warmed 

.  77 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

up  for  once.  How  d'  do?  Lay  back  and 
take  it  easy,  'Gusta." 

Tears  stood  in  good  Madam  John  Arun- 
dell's  eyes.  She  took  leave,  clasping  each 
of  us  in  a  fervent,  almost  poignant,  embrace. 
"  Do  you  not  see,"  she  murmured  to  me 
during  this  process,  "how  you  are  called, 
dear  child,  to  labor  in  the  vineyard  ?" 

"I  am  almost  overwhelmingly  impressed 
with  the  idea,"  I  rejoined  —  which  she  re- 
ceived in  the  most  abundant  faith. 

"I  shall  soon  have  you  with  me  for  a 
private  conference,"  she  said. 


CHAPTER  XII 

"WHAT  did  you  mean  by  going  and  en- 
gaging yourself  to  a  man  you  did  not  love, 
and  did  dislike  ?" 

In  my  vehemence,  I  let  the  verbs  fly. 

"  It  was  the  best  I  could  do  at  the  time, 
Martha:  Before  this,  something  has  hap- 
pened always  to  get  me  so  nicely  out  of 
things." 

She  looked  sadly  forsaken  of  a  Provi- 
dence in  whom  she  had  placed  such  noble 
trust. 

"Well,  the  thing  to  do  now  is  to  go  to 
your  grandmother  and  to  Mr.  Price  at  once, 
like  a  woman,  and  tell  them  you  entered 
into  the  engagement  heedlessly  and  very 
wrongly ;  ask  him  to  forgive  you — he  has, 
indeed,  something  to  forgive — and  say  that 
you  cannot  and  will  not  fulfil  it." 

"  But  he  told  grandmamma,  if  I  was  *  sil- 
ly '  (he  called  it)  he  would  sue  for  breach  of 
promise !  Imagine  it,  in  our  family !"  she 
79 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

gasped.  "  "We  would  rather  both  die.  I  would 
even  rather  marry  him.  Can  you  imagine 
how  a  man,  even  though  he  is  not  a  gen- 
tleman, could  be  so  exacting  ?" 

With  that  face  before  me  I  could  imagine 
how  a  man,  even  though  he  was  not  a  gen- 
tleman, might  be  very  exacting  indeed  in 
holding  to  the  pledge  of  its  possession. 

"  No,"  she  said  ;  "  you  must  think  of  some 
other  way,  Martha." 

"  And  do  you  think  that  possibly  this  may 
be  any  lesson  to  you  in  determining  your 
future  conduct?" 

"  It  has  already.  I  am  going  to  break 
with  Doctor  Latimer.  If  I  could  not  possi- 
bly find  any  other  way,  I  promised  that  he 
should  run  away  with  me.  He  is  so  devoted 
to  us,  I  am  sure  grandmamma  would  forgive 
him.  I  think  he  is  as  disgusting  as  Mr. 
Price,  only,  you  will  admit,  he  has  cleaner 
hands,  Martha.  But  after  you  came  I  made 
up  my  mind  I  would  not  do  such  a  wicked 
thing — and  I  am  going  to  leave  it  all  with 
you !" 

I  knew  that  she  was  deplorably  weak,  I 
knew  that  she  was  naughty,  I  knew,  in 
brief,  that  she  was  a  moral  imbecile,  but  the 
80 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

simple  and  absorbing  faith  of  saints  and 
martyrs  had  been  wafted  back  by  some 
process  of  theosophy  and  shone  upon  her 
high-bred  countenance,  and  very  greatly  in 
the  eyes  lifted  to  mine. 

I  knew  that  argument  or  scorn  were 
equally  useless  ;  but  I  was  moved  to  gaze  at 
her  very  fixedly. 

Her  beautiful  look  was  not  affected;  it 
challenged  the  deepest  scrutiny. 

"And  so  you  expect  me  to  meddle  in 
other  people's  affairs  ?" 

"  They  are  my  affairs,  dearest,  and  so  they 
are  yours.  And  isn't  it  strange  how  grand- 
papa loved  you  too,  the  very  first  time  he 
saw  you,  and  fancied  you  were  his  own?" 
She  laughed  merrily ;  the  load  was  off  her 
heart,  it  had  been  consigned  to  "  Martha." 

Meanwhile  I  had  automatically  unpacked 
my  trunk.  Not  that  I  had  assented,  or  had 
come  to  any  decision :  we  have  convictions, 
finally,  which  it  is  hopeless  to  attempt  to 
analyze,  and  against  which  it  is  equally 
fruitless  to  rebel. 

I  was  confirmed  in  this  impression  when 
"Watson,  with   a   slight   preliminary  knock, 
proceeded  to  hold  forth  outside  my  door. 
p  81 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"  Pardon  me,  mum.  Mrs.  Arundell  is  con- 
fined to  her  room  with  one  of  the  attacks  of 
vartigo  to  which  she  is  subject.  She  is  in 
bed,  and  the  nurse  she  employs  on  such  oc- 
casions is  with  her,  mum.  She  was  very 
much  alarmed,  but  is  now  quite  out  of  dan- 
ger; but  she  sent  me  to  ascertain  if  you 
would  have  the  very  great  kindness  to  step 
down  to  her  a  moment,  mum." 

She  looked  pathetically  transparent  against 
the  white  pillows. 

"  My  dear  Miss  Scheffer,  it  is  a  special 
Providence  has  sent  you  to  us.  Will,  you 
take  these  keys  —  Eleanor  is  so  careless; 
and  will  you  order — give  your  orders — or- 
der—" 

"  I  am  very  little  used  to  '  ordering,' "  I 
said,  relieving  her  faint  breath  with  these 
words  and  a  srnile. 

"  On  the  contrary,"  said  she,  and  smiled 
too.  Her  hand  was  shaking,  and  I  took  the 
keys.  She  held  a  small  one  apart,  and  she 
sent  the  nurse  out  of  the  room. 

"  Go,"  she  said,  "  to  the  little  drawer — the 
third  inner  drawer — at  the  left  of  my  dress- 
ing-table; pull  it  out,  please,  and  bring  it 
to  me." 

82 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

It  was  full  of  jewels.  As  she  received 
them,  that  inflexible  and  satisfied  look  came 
over  her  face,  as  though,  alas !  her  gods 
were  with  her.  Now  that  she  had  them 
and  saw  their  lustre,  I  saw  plainly  that  she 
regretted  some  half-formed  intention  of  her 
mind ;  but,  from  the  first,  she  had  selected 
one,  a  diamond  of  exceeding  beauty,  curious- 
ly set.  She  caught  its  light  with  admiring 
and  avaricious  eyes,  and  still  delayed  her  in- 
tention. 

"I  think  I  got  this  attack  —  I  am  very 
much  better — from  trying  to  write  a  letter 
— to  Forrester.  I  tried  to  make  him  see 
the  disgrace  —  disgrace.  That  other,  I  am 
willing  to  think,  was  a  boyish  folly,  a  play- 
ful trick  merely,  in  our  family  —  he  was 
never  bad.  I  regret — I  have  no  one  to  lean 
on — none !  But  this — this  that  he  is  doing 
now — a  street-car !" 

A  flush  like  fever  overspread  her  face. 

"  You  must  not  talk  about  it  now.  It  will 
all  be  well." 

I  straightened  the  pillows  and  lifted  her 
a  little. 

I  was  amazed  to  see  the  covetous  eyes 
lifted  from  the  jewels,  with  two  great  tears 
83 


THE    MORAL  IMBECILES 

in  them.  She  caught  my  hand.  "  I  wish 
some  one — who  could  have  influence  with 
Forrester — would  try  to  save  him.  This — 
was  his  mother's  ring.  She  was  not  —  as 
happy  —  as  might  have  been  —  perhaps.  I 
have  wondered  —  sometimes  — if  —  Some 
time,  Miss  Scheffer,  I  shall  have  one  of  those 
attacks,  and  not  recover  so  readily!"  Her 
lip  quivered.  "I  have  a  fancy  —  you  will 
not  refuse  an  old  woman  2"  She  had  lifted 
the  ring  and  was  placing  it  on  my  finger. 

"  I  cannot,  Mrs.  Arundell  —  I  cannot  wear 
this !  I  will  do  anything  I  can  to  help  you 
in  your  troubles.  I  cannot — " 

Her  eyes  were  fixed  on  me  with  a  kind  of 
terror,  wide  and  unnatural;  a  death -like 
pallor  began  to  creep  over  her  face. 

"  See !"  I  said — "  I  have  put  it  on !  Now 
hush — I  will  not  allow  another  word !  You 
are  going  to  rest." 

She  sank  back  with  a  satisfied  sigh.  She 
turned  with  a  sort  of  disgust  from  the  jew- 
els. "  Put  them  away,"  she  said,  feebly,  nor 
even  glanced  at  me  as  I  put  the  drawer  back 
in  its  place  and  locked  it. 

"Send  for  me,"  I  said,  "whenever  you 
wish  me.     You  must  rest  now." 
84 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

She  smiled,  very  naturally.  "Order  — 
dear  Miss  Scheffer.  I  am — usually — about, 
in  a  day  or  two.  At  present — I  leave  it  all 
with  you.  Order — 

Watson  made  an  obeisance  in  the  hall. 
"  Mrs.  Arundell  has  sent  out  word  that  your 
bequests  are  to  be  strictly  obeyed,  mum. 
If  my  long  experience  with  the  tastes  of  the 
family  can  assist  you  in  making  out  the 
bill  of  fare,  I  am  humbly  at  your  service, 
mum." 


CHAPTER  XIII 

DOCTOR  LATIMEK  avoided  me,  in  what  I 
thought  rather  a  slinking  fashion.  He  was 
engaged  with  Eleanor  at  one  end  of  the 
suite  of  drawing-rooms,  and  she,  I  had  no 
doubt,  from  her  triumphant  expression,  was 
"breaking  up"  her  incidental  compact  with 
him. 

My  host,  with  a  child-like  peace  of  coun- 
tenance, was  asleep  and  clearly  snoring. 

Beeman  Price  had  taken  a  chair  beside 
me.  He  glanced  with  a  derisive  and  un- 
pleasant expression  at  the  couple  in  the 
stately  distance. 

"  I  understand  the  family's  rather  flung 
onto  you,  Miss  Scheffer  ?  Rather  weak  lot, 
eh?" 

"  Altogether  too  weak,  I  think,"  I  said, 
"  to  take  any  advantage  of." 

He  was  not  stupid,  and  he  reddened  through 
his  tough  skin. 

"  But  what  if  you  had  been  of  great  ser- 
86 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

vice  to  them,  and  only  asked  a  business-like 
fulfilment  of  a  promise,  eh  ?" 

"  I  have  not  been  accustomed  to  expect 
that.  The  more  service  I  have  rendered  peo- 
ple, the  less  scrupulous  I  have  found  them 
in  the  fulfilment  of  promises." 

He  chuckled  delightedly,  and  regarded  me 
with  some  interest.  "  Gad  !"  said  he,  "  you 
know  human  nature !" 

"  If  you  think  so,  let  me  assure  you  Miss 
Arundell  has  no  regard  for  the  person  with 
whom  she  is  talking  yonder ;  neither — how- 
ever perversely  and  unfortunately — has  she 
any  regard  for  you." 

" '  Perverse !'  Lord  —  you've  hit  it !  I 
should  think  so !" 

"As  you  say,  the  family  has  appealed  to 
me  in  the  most  singular  manner.  I  have 
some  affairs  and  ambitions  of  my  own,  al- 
though it  may  not  seem  so.  But  you  spoke 
of  weakness  ;  nevertheless,  I  know  positive- 
ly^that  Eleanor  will  not  fulfil  the  pettish 
and  capricious  engagement  she  made  with 
you." 

"  She  won't,  eh  3" 

"  No.  A  child  a  third  of  your  years,  and 
a  child  even  for  her  own  years !  You  have 

87 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

no  writing  from  her,  nor  from  her  grand- 
mother. You  have  only  the  '  Arundell  word,' 
and,  in  this  case,  it  will  be  broken.  You 
may  do  your  worst.  I  assure  you  they  are 
not  under  any  apprehension  as  to  the  re- 
sult." 

He  surveyed  me,  and  his  usually  close 
mouth  was  open.  I  was  conscious  of  carry- 
ing an  unperturbed  smile. 

Then  he  laughed.  "  D'  ye  think  I'm  an 
idiot,  too  ?"  said  he. 

"  Neither  that  nor  a  villain.  Your  success 
is  a  matter  of  fame,  your  character  unim- 
peached." 

"  She's  a  handsome  girl.  She's  a  fool,  but 
she  has  an  air!  Gad!  you  know  the  air 
that  comes  along  down  with  that  sort  that 
haven't  any  recollection  of  potato-grubbin' 
and  wood-choppin' !  Now  I've  done  both, 
but  I  could  buy  them  out  twice  over !" 

"  I  do  not  doubt  it." 

"  She's  handsome,  and  she  carries  herself 
as  if  she'd  took  the  first  prize  in  all  the  turn- 
turn  colleges  in  creation,  and  if  she  was  good- 
natured  I  wouldn't  mind  her  being,  as  I  said, 
a  born  fool.  But  if  she's  going  to  be  rabid, 
you  don't  suppose  I  want  to  marry  her,  do 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

you  ?  You  saw  that  fan  business  the  other 
night — fan  that  cost  twenty  dollars — smash- 
ed it  on  me !  That  didn't  hurt — could  stand 
that — but  you  can't  tell  with  that  sort  what's 
going  to  happen !  She's  just  as  likely,  if  she 
got  booming  mad,  to  throw  something  solid 
at  me,  eh  ?" 

"  Quite  as  likely,"  I  said,  and,  at  the  sud- 
den nature  of  my  success,  I  even  laughed  a 
little,  basely,  at  his  bold  pleasantry. 

"  Tell  her  she's  absolved,  with  my  com- 
pliments!" said  he,  looking  to  see  if  I  ap- 
preciated the  wit  of  this  also,  and  in  my 
relieved  mood  I  met  his  conscious  tri- 
umph of  cynicism  with  another  encourag- 
ing laugh. 

He  drew  his  chair  nearer  to  me  with  a 
sudden  aspect  of  seriousness. 

"  You  say  you  have  affairs  and  ambitions 
of  your  own.  Miss  Scheffer.  You're  a  poor 
woman,  but  you  may  get  what  other  people 
haven't  the  sense  to  appreciate — " 

"Martha!  Where's  Martha?  Watson! 
where's  Martha?"  My  host  awoke  with  a 
shout,  bewildered. 

Watson  dawned  on  us  with  a  benignant 
smile.  "  You  have  been  enjoying  a  few  mo- 
89 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

ments  of  oblivion,  sir.  Miss  Scheffer  is  in 
your  immejate  presence,  sir,  doing  the  du- 
ties of  the  drawing-room;  Mrs.  Arundell,  as 
you  will  recall,  sir,  being  prostituted  tem- 
pora — " 

"  D — n  your  Bryant  and  '  Thanatopsis  !' 
Why  don't  you  talk  English,  Watson  ?  Eh  ? 
Oh  ! — you  here,  Price  ?  How  d'  do  ?  Al- 
ways welcome,  Price.  Shifted  over  to  you, 
eh,  Martha  ?  He !  he !  Trust  you  to  give 
'em  a  walking-  ticket! —  sharp  eye — chip  o' 
the  old  block.  Lots  o'  tunes  to  Martha — 
won't  make  much  out  o'  my  eldest  daughter, 
Price.  He  !  he  !" 

"Well,  I've  got  to  be  going,"  said  Bee- 
man  Price,  rising,  rather  contemptuously. 
"  I'll  call  again,"  said  he,  clapping  his  trap 
of  a  mouth  at  me  with  grewsome  signifi- 
cance. 

Eleanor  rose  from  her  retreat  and  came 
gracefully  across  the  room,  holding  out  her 
hand  to  him,  beaming  joy  and  a  very  sweet 
dignity  as  well  on  her  face. 

"  Good  -  night,  dear  Mr.  Price,"  she  said, 
after  the  fashion  of  her  grandmother. 

He  gave  a  kind  of  snort,  and  assuredly  he 
laughed.  "  Good-night,  dear  Miss  Arundell ! 
90 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

I've  left  a  message  for  you,"  he  added,  and 
buttoned  up  his  coat,  with  a  look  as  though 
he  had  been  spending  merely  an  amusing 
hour  among  the  wit-bereft  and  incompetent. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

"MY  DEAR  Miss  SCHEFFER, — You  haven't  written 
me  since  you  got  home. 

"  Please  give  my  love  and  thanks  to  my  grandmother 
for  her  letter.  My  grandmother  talks  only  about  reel- 
izing  disgrace.  I  don't  play  a  game,  nor  treat,  nor  take 
a  treat,  and  I  am  laing  up  something.  I  lift  up  and 
down  every  day  hundreds  of  babies  and  old  folks  and 
deformed  folks  and  lame  folks — " 

"  For  Heaven's  sake !  dear  Miss  Scheffer," 
interrupted  Madam  Arundell,  from  the  bed, 
"let  us  take  the  rest  of  the  catalogue  for 
granted.  Pray  go  on  to  the  next  theme." 

"  If  I  had  the  abillity  for  the  kinds  of  business  my 
grandmother  wants  me  to  do,  I  would,  but  fact  is  I 
don't  know  how.  If  my  grandmother  won't  say  it's 
disgrace,  but  that  it's  because  she  wants  me,  I'll  come 
home  as  my  first  duty.  I  leeve  you  to  find  out,  and 
leeve  it  all  with  you  anyway. 

"  Yours  with  the  love  of  all  my  harte, 

"FORRESTER." 

"  "Well,  what  do  you  advise  ?"  sighed  the 
invalid.     She  had  been  disappointed  at  the 
92 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

slowness  of  her  recovery.  Twice  a  day  Doc- 
tor Latimer  attended  and  prescribed  for  her. 
At  last  I  began  to  apply  some  measures  of 
my  own,  and  she  fancied  herself  mending. 
She  still  clung  gracefully  to  Doctor  Latimer 
as  an  orthodox  physician  devoted  to  the 
family,  but  in  the  silence  of  her  chamber  she 
deferred  entirely  to  me,  sweetly  laying  the 
whole  burden  of  her  convalescence  on  my 
shoulders. 

'•  What  do  you  advise,  dear  Miss  Scheffer  ?" 

"  I  should  send  for  him  to  come  home. 
He  has  shown  practical  amendment  and  re- 
pentance. What  is  there  more  satisfactory 
than  that  ?" 

These  moral  imbeciles  were,  after  all,  per- 
spicuous. It  seemed  to  occur  to  her  in  a 
flash  that  if  Forrester  returned,  I  would 
take  the  opportunity  to  retreat.  With  re- 
turning strength  she  had  gathered  firmness, 
and  she  now  put  on  one  of  the  most  virtuous 
expressions  I  have  ever  seen  on  mortal  face. 

"  Practical !  —  ah  yes,  but  I  see  no  signs 
of  the  deepest  feeling  in  this." 

"  But  every  effort  towards  purity  and  self- 
control,  every  helpful  act,  is  religious." 

She  shook  her  head.  "  I  see  no  evidence 
93 


of  the  true  spirit,  dear  Miss  Scheffer.  I  think 
it  is  wise  to  let  his  self-effort  continue  a  little 
longer.  He  may  find  out  how  frail  a  reed 
it  is  to  lean  upon !  I  am  able  to  bear  no 
excitement  yet ;  a  straw  might  set  me  back, 
as  you  know.  He  writes  you  continually 
that  he  is  in  excellent  health.  Tell  him  I 
regret  his  wilfulness,  but  watch  his  course 
with  unfailing  interest" — she  was  personi- 
fied virtue.  "  Severe  as  the  trial  is  to  my 
affections,  I  think  it  best  to  let  him  continue 
a  little." 

The  Arundell  disinterestedness  of  this  re- 
solve was  proven  some  hours  later  when  I 
came  to  her  again,  a  letter  from  another 
source  in  my  hand  this  time. 

"  I  have  a  brother,  Mrs.  Arundell,"  I  said, 
hoping  to  stimulate  her  by  an  air  of  great 
cheerfulness  and  courage.  "Now  and  then, 
when  there  is  something  of  importance,  he 
writes  to  me,  for  he  is  a  very  weighty  young 
fellow.  I  have  a  step-mother  living  with 
him,  and  it  seems  her  rheumatism  is  very 
'  bad ' — very  bad,  indeed.  Our  home  is  on 
a  little  farm  in  Vermont ;  we  keep  no  ser- 
vant, and  at  present  she  is  not  able  to  do 
the  necessary  house-work  for  herself  and 

94 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

my  brother.    I  must  go  and  bolster  them 
up." 

I  had  reckoned  without  my  host.  Madam 
Arundell  sank  back  pale,  with  an  expres- 
sion of  great  determination.  She  lifted  her 
hand  and  touched  the  electric  button  at  the 
side  of  her  bed. 

"  Mary  Ann,  have  Miss  Arundell's  maid 
.sent  down  to  me  immediately." 

Joan,  the  middle-aged  French -woman,  re- 
sponded without  delay. 

"Joan,  you  remember  how  completely 
you  cured  your  own  rheumatism  —  severe, 
almost  chronic — by  measures  known  only  to 
yourself  ?" 

"  Ya-a-s,  by  grasshus !"  said  Joan,  her 
dark,  seamed  face  buoyant  with  grateful 
recollection  and  benevolent  hope. 

"Miss  Scheffer's  step-mother  is  similarly  af- 
flicted. Miss  Eleanor  can  very  well  manage  to 
dress  herself  for  a  while  without  you,  and —  " 

She  held  up  a  hand  in  majestic  expostula- 
tion as  I  was  about  to  speak. 

"  If  Miss  Scheffer's  medical  services  were 
taken  from  me  now  I  should  probably  go 
into  a  relapse   which  might  prove  fatal!" 
Her  pallid  lips  quivered  again! 
95 


THE   MORAL    IMBECILES 

"Joan,  you  are  to  pack  your  things  and 
go  to  Mrs.  Scheffer's  relief.  Mary  Ann  !" 

Mary  Ann,  always  whisking  a  dust-cloth 
within  ear-shot  of  the  pivotal  interest  in  the 
drama,  responded,  "  Yis,  mum." 

"  You  are  to  pack  your  things  and  go 
with  Joan  to  Miss  Scheffer's  home  for  some 
weeks.  I  can  readily  supply  your  place 
here  meanwhile.  You  are  to  do  faithfully 
all  the  domestic  service  there.  Upon  the 
faithfulness  with  which  you  perform  those 
duties  will  depend  your  returning  to  your 
situation  here." 

"  Yis,  mum." 

"  Go,  both  of  you,  and  make  your  prep- 
arations. Miss  Scheffer  will  give  you  later 
the  necessary  instructions  in  regard  to  the 
journey." 

Then  she  gasped.  I  put  some  wine  to  her 
lips.  She  lay  a  moment  faintly,  with  closed 
eyes. 

"  I  shall  esteem  it  the  barest  justice,  dear 
Miss  Scheffer,  to  assume  the  domestic  ex- 
penses of  your  household  during  this  crisis." 
An  expenditure  to  forward  her  own  ends 
never  afflicted  Madam  Arundell. 

"  But  for  you,  this  last  prostration  of  mine 
96 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

might  be  tending  to  a  very  different  result. 
I  shall  attend  to  it  with  confidence  in  Joan, 
who  is  strictly  to  be  trusted.  Ah !  I  fancied 
the  dizziness  was  returning.  I  will  rest — a 
moment." 

Many  thoughts  had  flown  rapidly  through 
my  mind.  If  Joan  had  some  mysterious 
panacea  for  my  step-mother's  complaint,  why 
not  let  her  go  and  apply  it  ?  Madam  Arun- 
dell's  illness,  at  least,  was  not  affected  ;  and, 
interested  now  in  her  case,  I  had  a  desper- 
ate determination  to  see  her  well  again. 
Then,  my  step-mother  had  always  disliked 
me,  and  I  returned  the  sentiment  cordially. 
Meditating,  I  sat  by  Madam  ArundelPs  bed- 
side, when  Eleanor  burst  into  the  room. 

"  Oh,  grandmamma  !  Joan  says  she  is  go- 
ing to  Martha's  home,  and  she  is  packing 
my  things  too — I  told  her  to  do  so !" 

Madam  Arundell  opened  her  weary  eyes, 
rather  with  complacency,  now  that  the  di- 
lemma revolved  outside  her  own  personal 
needs. 

"  You  told  me  that  I  might  take  Joan 
and  go  to  Cousin  Kate's  in  Canada  for  a  few 
weeks  this  winter  for  the  ice-sports,  and  I 
am  going  to  Yermont  instead !" 
G  97 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"  Come  over  here,  Eleanor,"  I  said;  "/ 
want  to  talk  to  you.  You  will  find  un- 
bounded ice,  no  doubt,  in  my  home  in  Yer- 
mont;  it  will  even  mix  in  the  water  for  your 
bath—" 

"I  bathe  in  cold  water  every  morning. 
I  am  going !" 

"  There  will  be  no  way  of  heating  your 
bedroom — " 

"  I  hate  hot  rooms.     I  am  going !" 

"  No  lounges,  no  theatres,  no  carriage,  no 
quail  on  toast,  no  frogs'  hind-legs — " 

"Eleanor,"  interposed  Madam  Arundell, 
conclusively,  "  you  forget  that  Miss  Scheffer 
has  a  brother." 

"No,  indeed,  I  do  not,  grandmamma.  I 
am  so  glad  there  is  another  young  person." 

"As  for  that,  Mrs.  Arundell,"  said  I, 
laughing,  "Dan's  interest,  when  he  is  not 
laboring,  is  given  entirely  to  the  scientific 
reviews.  He  is  a  good  boy,  but  rather  sour, 
like  myself.  I  doubt,  when  Eleanor  comes 
away  from  her  ice-sports  (of  which  Dan  will 
prove  one),  if  he  will  know  even  the  color  of 
her  eyes  and  hair." 

Madam  Arundell  smiled.  Eleanor's  en- 
thusiasm was  not  abated  a  jot. 

98 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"I  am  going!"  said  she. 

"Go,  then,  for  a  day,  if  you  are  deter- 
mined," said  Madam  Arundell,  wearily. 
"Since  you  have  broken  your  engagement 
with  poor  Mr.  Price,  it  may  be  well  for  you 
to  learn  something  of  the  rigors  of  life." 

Eleanor,  naturally,  was  not  afraid  of  pen- 
ury. She  went  out  with  a  bounding  step. 

"  Write  at  my  table,  I  beg  of  you,  Miss 
Scheffer,"  said  the  invalid. 

I  wrote,  with  keen  appreciation  of  the  sit- 
uation : 

"DEAR  DAN, — There  will  arrive  to  you,  to-morrow 
night  (self-  sustaining),  a  French  specialist  to  heal  my 
step-parent,  a  maid  of  all  work,  and  a  beautiful  dam- 
sel, no  other  than  the  daughter  of  the  family,  seeking 
ice  scenery  and  winter  sports.  Give  her  the  room  over 
the  sitting  -  room,  and  if  your  mechanical  genius  can 
devise  a  way  of  getting  a  little  warmth  into  it,  even 
though  it  be  by  knocking  a  hole  through  the  floor, 
do  so. 

"  Mrs.  Arundell  is  still  precariously  weak,  and  I  have 
decided  to  remain  here  a  little  longer. 

".MARTHA." 


CHAPTER  XV 

DAN  went,  in  his  stolid,  matter-of-fact 
way,  to  the  "station,"  which,  by-the-way, 
resembled  a  cow-shed. 

He  had  a  sleigh  fully  equal  to  the  occa- 
sion in  the  generous  extent  of  its  plank- 
flooring,  if  otherwise  devoid  of  elegance,  and 
he  carried  and  piled  on  the  trunks  unaided 
— the  station-master  being  sickly.  There 
was  one  primitive  seat  in  front. 

"  Come,"  said  he,  to  the  eldest  woman — to 
Joan — "  you  sit  here." 

"  Mees !  mees !"  said  Joan,  greatly  smiling, 
and  pointing,  in  the  moonlight,  at  Eleanor. 

"  No,  Joan,"  said  that  gracious  individual, 
"  sit  just  where  Daniel  tells  you."  His  ma- 
nipulation of  the  trunks  had  confused  him  in 
her  mind  somewhat  with  the  offices  of  a 
porter ;  so  she  said  "  Daniel,"  but  he  was 
her  Martha's  brother,  and  his  manner  was 
anything  but  servile,  and  she  smiled  di- 
vinely. 

100 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

And  now  I  have  to  record  of  my  brother 
Daniel  the  last  thing  that  should  have  been 
expected  of  him  in  reason  or  in  nature — a 
sudden  thwarting  of  the  logical  principles  of 
life,  which  admits  of  no  explanation  and  re- 
mains merely  to  be  stated — as  he  gazed  at 
the  moral  imbecile,  he  Hushed  with  delight, 
and  wavered,  as  if  longing,  after  all,  to 
place  her  on  the  seat  beside  him ! 

But  the  obedient  Joan  was  already  en- 
sconcing herself  there.  "  Wa — al,"  said  this 
anglicized  Frenchwoman,  and  added,  with 
naive  inelegance,  "  I  have  in  me  the  joke  to 
bust  1" 

"  Now  you  two  I  am  going  to  put  in  here 
on  the  trunks,"  said  Daniel ;  and,  still  defer- 
ring conscientiously  to  the  precedence  of 
years,  he  lifted  Mary  Ann's  stout  form  and 
set  her  among  the  boxes ;  he  took  up  the 
costly  fur -robed  form  of  Miss  Katherine 
Eleanor  Arundell  and  put  her  down  beside 
the  maid,  on  the  latter' s  flat  box.  "Put 
your  feet  deep  in  the  straw,  lean  against 
those  big  trunks,  get  close  together — there !" 
Mary  Ann  had  on  the  frail  ray  of  a  bonnet 
in  which  she  went  to  city  mass.  "  You  do 
not  need  that  scarf,  flying  out  under  your 

101 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

cloak,"  said  Dan  to  Miss  Arundeil ;  "  you 
are  in  fur  from  head  to  foot ;  let  her  have  it 
to  wrap  her  head  and  neck  in — she  will  re- 
alize what  this  wind  means  pretty  soon  !" 

Eleanor  delivered  up  the  scarf  on  the  in- 
stant, with  the  sweetest  good-nature. 

Dan,  going  to  the  other  extreme  of  the 
sled,  took  off  his  own  silk  neckerchief — his 
pet  article  of  furniture — and  turned  up  his 
coat-collar.  "  Tie  this  over  your  head,"  said 
he  to  Joan. 

Joan,  struck  with  amazement  at  her  su- 
perior and  coquettish  situation,  only  grinned 
broadly  at  him. 

He  took  off  his  mittens,  and  himself  ad- 
justed the  scarf  to  her  needs,  leaving,  with 
masculine  tact,  a  broad  end  flapping  at  each 
of  her  ears.  Miss  Arundeil  and  Mary  Ann 
peeped  over  from  among  the  boxes,  and 
were  edified  without  distinction  of  class. 

"Don't  talk  to  me!"  said  Mary  Ann, 
through  hilarious  though  frozen  tears. 
"  Would  I  be  getting  tickets  to  the  the-o-ter  ? 
The  the-a-ters  don't  get  the  likes  o'  what  I 
see,  day  by  day,  God  knows !  Take  back-yer 
scarf,  Miss  Eleanor.  I  wouldn't  have  taken 
it  only  he  was  so  sojerly." 

102 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"  No,  no — I  wish  I  had  thought  of  it  my- 
self. His  eyes  are  like  his  sister's,  Mary 
Ann." 

"Maybe.  But  I'd  never  think  such  a 
scrawn  as  her  'u'd  have  such  a  roustin'  big 
biy  for  a  brother.  But  he  has  the  gall  on 
him,  too,  d'ye  mind  ?" 

"  You  are  not  to  talk  to  me  in  that  way, 
Mary  Ann." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Miss  Eleanor.  Don't 
move  off  and  let  the  wind  blow  between 


us!" 

Eleanor,  realizing  the  potency  of  this  ad- 
vice, cuddled  up  again  to  her  companion, 
and,  after  the  manner  of  the  mature  Arun- 
dells,  fell  asleep.  Mary  Ann  put  a  kind  and 
sheltering  arm  around  her,  and,  being  now 
practically  alone  in  a  landscape  of  snow, 
she  comforted  herself  a  little  with  philoso- 
phy and  that  song  of  hers  which  was  its 
mysterious  exponent : 

"The  old  man  says  to  his  wife,  says  he, 
Says  he  and  says  I, 
And  says  I  and  says  he — " 

Joan  did  not  hear,  to  mock,  the  flapping 
appendages  at  her  ears  constituting  an  en- 

103 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

grossing  avenue  of  sound ;  but  the  latter 
saw  at  last  a  light  in  the  wild  waste. 

"  "We  arrive  ?"  she  said,  eagerly. 

Dan  nodded.  "  We  arrive !"  cried  Joan, 
shrilly,  backward  to  the  baggage. 

My  step-mother,  it  is  to  be  said  (another 
thwarting  of  all  rational  inferences)  took  an 
immediate  fancy  to  Joan,  but  especially  to 
that  pronounced  moral  imbecile,  Miss  Arun- 
dell,  who,  on  warming  herself,  went  at  once 
to  the  bedside  and  folded  Mrs.  Scheffer  in 
an  embrace  of  unquestioning  affection. 

"  I  do  not  know  what  Dan  has  got  for 
your  supper,  I'm  sure,"  said  the  invalid, 
flushing  to  the  roots  of  her  hair,  which,  by- 
the-way,  was  always  red.  "  I  tried  to  have 
him  come  to  me  for  advice,  but  he  goes  his 
own  way;  his  sister  and  him  both  will  go 
their  own  way." 

"  They  are  very  spunk}'-,"  said  the  faith- 
less Eleanor. 

"  Ya-as,  var'  spunk,"  said  the  facile  and 
heathen  Joan. 

Considerable  clatter  arose  from  the  kitch- 
en, to  whose  exigencies  Dan  was  introducing 
Mary  Ann ;  they  were  both  hale  beings, 
with  no  natural  sentiments  of  noiseless- 
104 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

ness,  and  the  table  was  being  set  with  a 
will. 

Soon  a  cow -bell,  the  only  medium  on 
which  the  apt  Mary  Ann  could  lay  her 
hand,  was  heard  resounding  up  the  stairway, 
and  the  daughter  of  the  house  of  Arundell 
descended. 

Daniel,  meanwhile,  had  struggled  with 
that  first  poignant  arrow  of  delight  and  torn 
it  from  his  breast.  Wholly?  For,  after 
bringing  in  the  boxes  and  putting  up  his 
horse,  he  had  gone  up  to  his  little  cold  bed- 
room and  put  on  the  suit  of  black  broad- 
cloth, in  which,  by  reason  of  his  strength, 
he  acted  as  chief  bearer  at  funerals. 

"  I  tried  to  have  her  put  seats  for  four," 
gravely  said  this  benighted  Yermont  coun- 
tryman ;  "  they  must  be  very  hungry,  too. 
But  she  did  not." 

"Why,  no—"  said  Miss  Arundell,  smiling, 
but  very  gently;  "however  hungry  they 
are,  of  course  we  could  not  eat  with  the 
servants.  They  will  not  in  the  least  mind 
waiting  till  afterwards." 

Daniel  stretched  out  his  great  arms  in 
their  thin  broadcloth  and  asked  a  blessing 
in  his  accustomed  way ;  the  moral  imbecile 
105 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

openly  regarding  him  during  this  rite  with 
graceful  and  complacent  interest.  The  stove 
and  general  culinary  department  of  prepara- 
tion were  at  one  end  of  the  dining-room,  or, 
rather,  the  dining-room  was  at  one  end  of 
those;  and  Mary  Ann,  standing  buoyant  and 
silent  during  the  blessing,  now  swung  her 
ladle  and  proceeded  to  dip  from  the  caldron 
of  miscellaneous  nourishment  which  Daniel 
had  prepared  and  left  simmering  on  the 
stove  during  his  absence. 

Having  put  some  of  this,  with  the  hot 
plates,  on  the  table,  she  retreated  into  the 
cold  pantry,  leaving  the  door  a  little  ajar; 
for  Mary  Ann  designed  not  to  miss  any  of 
life's  play  as  it  evolved  in  ceaseless  panorama 
before  her. 

"  There !"  said  Daniel,  growing  hot — "  we 
haven't  any  bread.  I  got  out,  you  see,  and 
I  do  not  understand  making  it." 

"  I  do  not  like  bread,"  said  the  ready  one ; 
and  being  a  lady  of  great  tact,  she  began  to 
speak  of  some  of  her  own  difficulties  and 
sorrows  in  life,  in  her  gentle  way. 

Daniel  had  never  seen  anything  so  proud 
and  yet  so  sweet  as  the  moral  imbecile,  sit- 
ting there  pouring  out  his  tea. 

106 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"  And  what  a  delicious  stew !"  she  added. 
"  I  am  sure  it  must  be  something  very  choice 
to  have  such  a  strange  flavor." 

"  It  is  a  rabbit  stew,"  said  Daniel. 

"  And  this  is  its  dear  little  tail,  I  am  sure," 
said  Eleanor,  eying  something  on  her  plate 
with  childlike  pleasure  and  admiration. 

"  No,"  said  Daniel,  wishing  bitterly  that 
he  had  remembered  to  slice  the  vegetables — 
"  that  is  only  a  carrot  sprout." 

Mary  Ann  retreated  to  the  farthest  corner 
of  the  pantry  and  sang,  gazing  at  the  frozen 
window : 

"The  old  man  says  to  his  wife,  says  he, 
Says  he  and  says  I, 
And  says  I  and  says  he — " 

After  supper,  Daniel  went  stoutly  and 
gravely  into  his  workshop,  at  one  end  of 
the  sitting  -  room ;  it  was  full  of  straps, 
screws,  wheels,  and  general  contrivances. 

Miss  Arundell  sat  down  by  the  fire,  alone. 

Daniel  loved  his  work  and  became  ab- 
sorbed in  it.  But  he  glanced  out  after  awhile 
and  saw  the  beautiful,  listless  figure,  sitting 
patiently  in  the  glow  of  the  firelight. 

"  "Would  you  like  to  read  ?"  said  he,  and 
thoughtfully  brought  out  to  her  the  lightest 
107 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

and  spiciest  volume  of  literature  he  pos- 
sessed— Our  Country's  Thousand  Most  Re- 
markable Events. 

"  Thank  you !"  said  Miss  Arundell.  He 
looked  out  again.  The  book  was  open  in 
her  lap,  but  she  preserved  her  former  atti- 
tude, unenlivened. 

"  I  made  a  way  of  heating  your  room," 
said  Daniel,  "  and  I  hope  you  won't  find  it 
uncomfortable  when  you  unpack  your  things 
in  it." 

"  Oh,  Joan  always  unpacks  my  things," 
drawled  Eleanor,  smiling,  though  weary. 

Dan  turned  to  his  straps,  with  a  fairy-tale 
in  his  head.  Oh,  false  human  nature !  If  he 
had  ever  thought  of  uniting  another's  lot 
to  his  own,  it  should  be  some  serious,  helpful 
worker  in  life's  struggles  —  and  now!  the 
poor  county  boor  saw  but  one  enthralling 
ideal  of  womanhood  ;  that  or  none  for  him, 
forever ;  and  hopeless  as  sweet. 

"  Martha  says  you  invent  things,  Daniel," 
said  she,  his  ill-fitting  funeral  cloth  impress- 
ing her  still  further  with  the  remoteness  of 
his  social  position. 

"  Yes,  I  do.     You  would  not  understand, 
but  I've  got  an  idea  here  that  I  shall  make 
108 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

practical,  just  as  sure  as  daylight.  And 
when  I  do — I  may  have  a  penny !  It's  no 
chimera,  either." 

Eleanor's  eyes  were  fixed  on  him  with 
wide  interest  now,  his  gloomy  face  had 
turned  so  animated  and  handsome. 

"  You  see,"  he  went  on  —  he  who  had 
never  committed  himself  to  mortal  before. 
Eleanor  went  over  to  the  workshop  door. 
"  The  old  way  was  —  so  and  so — "  he  ex- 
plained, eagerly.  Eleanor  entered.  "  But 
now — you  would  not  understand,  of  course, 
but  I  am  working  on  this  line — now — so — 
and  so."  Eleanor  sat  down  on  a  tool-box, 
attentively. 

Mary  Ann  peeped  in,  and  went  up  the 
stairs,  singing. 

"Ce!  ce!"  and  "Ci!  ci!"  sneered  Joan, 
intercepting  her.  "  You  have  the  tune, 
Mar'an  !  Is  mam'selle  'appy  below  ?" 

"  She's  settin'  in  the  hide  and  1'ather  shop 
with  the  young  farmer.  They  looks  to  be 
enjoyin'  theirselves,"  replied  Mary  Ann, 
coolly,  and  continued  her  refrain. 

Joan  went  down.    "  Shall  I  go  with  mam'- 
selle to  her  apartment,  and  assist  her  to  re- 
tire ?"  she  inquired,  in  French. 
109 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

Eleanor,  always  ready  to  sleep,  held  out 
her  hand  in  a  gracious  "  Good-night "  to  Dan- 
iel. The  poor  wretch  worked  late  at  his  de- 
sign, sneezing  obliviously  in  his  thin  coat — 
not  bewildered,  but  resolute,  though  false 
and  lost  to  common-sense. 

Oh,  the  delicious  dream  to  his  fallen 
though  toiling  and  masterful  nature  of  a 
possession  like  that — beautiful  and  vigorous- 
ly grown  to  woman's  estate,  and  yet  actually 
requiring  a  nurse  to  put  her  to  bed ! 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THEEE  was  one  simple  piece  of  mechan- 
ism which  Daniel  Scheffer  executed  without 
delay.  He  put  another  seat  on  his  sled. 

"  "Would  you  like  to  ride  down  to  the  vil- 
lage and  the  post-office  with  me?"  he  said 
to  Eleanor,  the  day  after  her  arrival. 

"  Oh  yes ;  and  if  Joan  is  engaged  with 
Mrs.  Scheffer,  Mary  Ann  can  go." 

Finding  it  an  accepted  fact  that  she  was 
not  to  go  without  an  aproned  attendant,  and 
determined  to  begin  his  courting  right  away, 
in  true  Yermont  fashion,  and  to  have  his 
bride  and  his  patent  marching  on  in  the 
same  line  of  completion,  Daniel  therefore 
went  out  straightway  and  put  another  seat 
to  his  sled,  and  he  put  it  at  a  most  remark- 
able distance  from  the  front  one. 

"  Behol'  Mar'an !  she  rides  behin' !"  said 
Joan,  in  ecstasy,  at  the  window — she  her- 
self having  been  notably  chosen  to  sit  be- 
side the  young  man  the  night  before.  "  She 
ill 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

attracts  not  monsieur — no  !  He  despise  and 
put  her  afar  off." 

"  It  is  a  wonder  he  did  not  put  them  both 
there,"  said  my  step-mother. 

"  He  have  not  the  heart  to  love  ? — not  one 
entrancing  as  my  mees?"  said  Joan,  with  a 
sudden  spur  of  conscientious  anxiety. 

"  You  need  not  be  anyways  put  out,"  said 
Mrs.  Scheffer,  dryly.  "He  loves  his  work- 
shop and  his  reading,  and  that  is  all.  The 
Scheffers  are  queer,  and,  some  think,  hard." 

"  Would  you  like  to  drive  the  colt  ?"  said 
Daniel,  indulgently,  to  his  companion,  and 
found  it  was  one  thing  she  could  do  com- 
pletely. "  You  are  sure  you  are  quite  warm  ? 
And  so  you  do  like  our  winter  scenery? 
Let  me  sit  over  on  the  windy  side ;  it  will 
make  a  great  deal  of  difference,  you  will  find. 
I  am  not  easily  blown  through."  He  moved 
a  little  sideward,  inward,  further  to  protect 
his  seatmate. 

"The  old  man  says  to  his  wife,  says  he," 

murmured  Mary  Ann,  in  almost  inaudible 
song,  from  her  lonely  retreat. 

"  There  is  a  conference  at  the  village  this 
afternoon.  "Would  you  like  to  go  ?" 

112 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"  A  coasting  '  conference '  ?" 

"  N-no — a  church  conference.  The  minis- 
ters, and  perhaps  some  of  the  laymen,  will 
discuss  certain  themes,  and  there  will  be  a 
collation,  roast  turkey,  etc." 

"  It  must  be  charming.  We  will  go,  cer- 
tainly." 

"  Drive  down  the  hill,  please,  and  I  will 
leave  the  corn." 

Daniel,  with  simple  dignity,  extracted  two 
bags  of  corn  from  the  extreme  rear  of  his  car- 
avan, and  deposited  them  at  the  mill.  The 
colt  pranced  and  shied  at  the  noise.  Eleanor 
quieted  him  with  a  loving  and  practised 
hand.  Daniel  Scheffer  glowed  with  delight: 

"I  would  trust  you  anywhere  with  the 
colt.  You  drive  better  than  I  can.  You 
are  so  firm  and  patient  with  him.  I  think 
you  must  have  had  some  trials,  Miss  Arun- 
dell,  to  make  you  so  patient." 

"  Yes,  Daniel,"  sighed  the  moral  imbecile, 
with  perfect  condescension,  "I  have  had 
some  very  deep  trials." 

He  turned  his  broad  shoulders  still  further 
inward  as  they  climbed  up  again  to  the 
breezy  heights.  No  wind  should  ever  again 
strike  her  if  he  could  help  it. 

H  113 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"The  old  man  says  to  his  wife,  says  he," 

dimly  moaned  Mary  Ann,  more  desolate 
than  ever,  now  that  the  meal-bags  were  gone 
from  her  vicinity. 

Daniel  accomplished  his  errands  in  the 
village,  and  brought  up  at  the  horse -sheds 
by  the  bleak  church. 

Eleanor  had  dressed  in  the  morning  for  a 
day  of  "  ice-sports,"  in  a  picturesque  shoot- 
ing-costume. She  had  thrown  on  for  the 
drive  a  great  fur-lined  opera-cloak,  grave  of 
color  and  very  long:  but  on  entering  the 
warm  church,  Mary  Ann  took  the  cloak  over 
her  arm,  and  Eleanor  stepped  forth  with  a 
theatrical  effect  of  which  she,  herself,  was 
wholly  unconscious. 

"  She  is  a  friend  of  my  sister,  from  New 
York,  with  her — servant,"  explained  Daniel 
to  the  scandalized  matrons  at  the  collation- 
board.  "  She  came  for  the  winter  sports,  and 
she  did  not  know  we  were  to  stop  at  the 
church." 

"  Well,  if  she's  come  all  the  way  from 
New  York  to  slide  down-hill,  I  think  she'd 
better  brought  a  flannel  petticoat  and  a 
dress-skirt,"  said  one. 

114 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

Daniel  did  not  hear.  "  I  am  sure  you  will 
make  her  feel  at  home,"  he  said. 

"  She  don't  look  timid." 

"  She  certainly  don't  look  bold,"  came 
from  a  kindly  heart,  carrying  off,  too,  more 
attempt  at  external  style  than  the  others; 
"  them  golf-suits  are  all  the  rage.  I'll  go  and 
say  '  how  d'  do.' " 

The  afternoon  session  was  about  to  begin. 
Daniel  gulped  down  some  coffee  and  biscuits, 
and  took  his  place  in  the  pews.  Eleanor 
and  Mary  Ann,  by  force  of  circumstances, 
sat  down  together  at  the  long  table,  which 
was  spread  near  the  stoves  in  the  rear  of  the 
audience  room. 

"Will  we  be  'atin'  while  they  be's  discours- 
in,'  Miss  Eleanor  ?"  whispered  Mary  Ann. 

"  Certainly.  It  is  the  way  to  do  at  '  col- 
lations '  if  you  are  late,"  said  Eleanor,  with 
assumed  erudition  on  that  score.  "  They 
begged  me  to  help  myself.  You  see  the 
rest  have  finished,  but  look  at  the  whole 
turkeys  and  cranberry- sauce  and  things  left, 
Mary  Ann.  "We  must  be  very  still.  I  think 
we  would  better  get  the  things  we  wish  to- 
gether first,  they  are  scattered  so.  You  see 
that  chocolate-cake  away  over  at  the  end  ?" 

115 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

Mary  Ann  rose  in  the  midst  of  the  invo- 
cation and  cautiously  tip-toed  over  to  it,  re- 
turning stealthily  with  her  prize. 

"  And  see  that  exquisite-looking  pumpkin- 
pie,  away  over  there,  Mary  Ann." 

Mary  Ann  had  on  a  large  white  apron 
and  one  of  my  step-mother's  knitted  hoods, 
which  she  allowed  to  hang  by  the  strings 
down  her  back,  the  stoves  being  very  warm. 
Like  a  thief  in  the  night,  she  slunk  over  and 
returned  with  the  pumpkin-pie. 

They  ate  slowly,  deliberately,  with  exces- 
sive quietness ;  but  they  ate,  through  hymn 
and  through  address,  Mary  Ann  occasionally 
making  an  adroit  foraging  tour,  with  a  griev- 
ously guilty  air,  on  tiptoe. 

Many  wondering,  sidelong  glances  were 
cast  back  at  them.  Daniel  was  scarlet,  but 
adoringly  true  to  his  lady  love. 

"  Let  us  hear  from  Scheffer.  The  laymen 
have  a  word  to  say  here.  Scheffer!"  was 
called. 

Eleanor  paused  in  the  dissection  of  a  tur- 
key's wing,  and  looked  up. 

Daniel  stepped  immediately  to  the  plat- 
form and  stood  there  like  a  lion,  head  and 
shoulders  above  them  all,  dark  and  massive. 
116 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

And  the  words  that  poured  out  of  him,  with 
self-  possessed  fluency !  ready  and  scholarly 
English,  and  with  a  fitness  to  the  occasion 
which  neither  Eleanor  nor  Mary  Ann  lin- 
gered to  appreciate,  amazed  at  his  attitude. 

"  Well,  now,  he  has  the  eddication  on 
him,"  gasped  Mary  Ann.  "  He's  equal  to 
thim  Chinamen  in  N'  York.  D'ye  mind  the 
eddication  they  must  have  to  be  writin'  the 
way  they  do  ?" 

"  He  is  not  like  a  Chinaman  at  all,"  said 
Eleanor.  "  I  thought  he  was  just  a  farmer. 
Forrester  was  at  college,  but  he  could  not 
begin  to  address  people  like  that,  nor  any- 
thing but  slang  —  the  darling !  But  Mr. 
Scheffer  is  eloquent.  I  have  heard  very  dis- 
tinguished speakers,  Mary  Ann."  They  had 
discontinued  their  lazy  and  elaborate  meal 
for  no  other  address,  and  it  was  during  the 
thesis  of  another  speaker  that  the  two  re- 
sumed eating  and  finally  drew  their  chairs 
back  with  respectful  quiet,  side  by  side,  al- 
most instantly  relapsing  into  the  serenity  of 
sleep.  The  wintry  dusk  fell  and  the  kerosene 
lamps  were  set  alight. 

"  Did  you  enjoy  it  ?"  said  Daniel,  as  they 
set  out  homeward,  with  the  colt. 
117 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"  I  think  your  conferences  and  collations 
are  simply  delightful,  Mr.  Scheffer,"  said 
Eleanor. 

Mr.  Scheffer !  At  first,  his  face  fell ;  then, 
as  if  at  some  new  touch  of  dignity  and  with- 
drawal in  her  manner,  he  became  more 
elate  than  before. 

"  I  must  bring  down  some  of  that  wood 
to-morrow,"  he  remarked,  as  they  passed  a 
pile  on  one  of  the  heights  of  his  wild  domain. 

"Why  don't  ye  take  along  a  bit  now, 
sorr?"  said  Mary  Ann,  who  had  been  brood- 
ing, in  her  retreat,  over  reminiscences  of  her 
own,  of  an  extremely  rough  and  simple 
manner  of  living — "I'm  sure  the  slid  can 
contain  it !" 

"  Yes,"  cried  Eleanor,  gleefully,  "  in  the 
moonlight!  Come  on!"  and  she  sprang 
down,  in  hunting-cloth  and  gaiters. 

Katherine  Eleanor  Arundell  and  Mary 
Ann  Lynch  carried  rails  to  the  sled  between 
them,  and  Daniel  carried  alone.  Refreshed 
from  their  collation  and  their  nap,  they 
worked  jubilantly.  Daniel  thought  the  sun 
of  life  and  joy  had  risen  over  Haskell,  Ver- 
mont. He  wrenched  up  his  patent  seats,  and 
the  wood  was  piled  high. 

118 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

He  spread  blankets  for  Eleanor  on  top  of 
the  load,  and  one  for  Mary  Ann  at  the 
scheduled  distance.  He  wisely  sat  very  near 
Miss  Arundell,  on  the  precarious  summit,  to 
protect  her  from  possible  harm. 

"The  old  man  says  to  his  wife,  says  he, 
Says  he  and  says  I, 
And  says  I  and  says  he," 

sang  Mary  Ann,  boldly  now,  and  with  un- 
shackled philosophy,  in  the  far  back- 
ground. 

The  cottage  was  uncommonly  alight,  and 
there  were  horses  tied  here  and  there  in 
sheltered  places  about  the  premises. 

"  It's  a  surprise  party !"  groaned  Daniel. 

"  Oh,"  exclaimed  Eleanor,  with  delight, 
"  New  York — New  York  is  nothing  to  Has- 
kell,  Vermont — and  oh,  look  at  Joan !" 

Joan  was  standing,  wild  and  dishevelled, 
in  the  doorway.  "  I  resist,  but  they  enter  !" 
she  explained  ;  "  they  rush  in !  they  romp  ! 
they  drink  of  cider,  they  eat  of  apple  and 
corn  that  is  pop !" 

"It's  all  right,  Joan,"  laughed  Daniel. 
The  rioters  come  pouring  out,  young  men 
and  maidens ;  they  helped  unload  the  wood, 
119 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

they  put  up  the  horse  and  brought  hay  and 
water. 

The  moonlight  was  pouring  like  day,  in  at 
the  barn  door. 

"  Let's  play  "scape  kiss,'  three  times  round 
the  outside  of  the  barn,"  suggested  one. 

Some  modest  young  ladies  sniffed  and 
stood  back,  but  the  more  hilarious  of  the 
party  prepared  to  run. 

"Cousin  Tom  couldn't  play,  of  course," 
said  the  same  reckless  first  speaker;  "he's 
preparin'  for  the  ministry." 

Tom,  smiling,  in  a  long,  black  coat,  stepped 
forth,  at  this  taunt,  ready  for  the  race. 

"  One — two — three — if  you  get  caught  be- 
fore the  third  time  round,  you  get  kissed. 
One — two — three — go !"  said  a  referee. 

Eleanor,  in  athletic  gaiters — all  alive  with 
the  merry  scene  and  the  crisp  air,  suddenly 
threw  her  cloak  at  Mary  Ann,  and  was  off. 

The  handsome  student,  in  clerical  coat, 
singled  her  out  and  made  that  way.  Daniel 
burst  into  the  race;  the  student  had  the 
first  start.  Eleanor  was  nearly  safe,  racing 
in  the  second  circuit,  but  the  student  was 
fleet  of  foot.  Daniel  made  a  mighty  spurt 
and  passed  him ;  he  caught  Eleanor  just  be- 

130 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

fore  her  flying  feet  were  entering  safe  on 
the  third  run.  He  did  not  kiss  her.  "I 
don't  want  you  to  play  this  any  more,"  he 
said,  gravely,  and  seemed  trembling. 

"  Oh,  indeed  !  —  why  not  ?"  said  Eleanor, 
lifting  her  hand  with  a  beautiful  motion, 
breathless,  and  laughing,  to  fasten  her  hair. 
"  Certainly  I  shall  play  if  I  like  —  it's  the 
merest  nonsense." 

"  Well,  I  can  run  faster  than  any  man  in 
Haskell,"  said  Daniel,  gloomily,  "  and  I  shall 
run  after  you,  and  the  next  time  I  catch  you 
— according  to  the  rules  of  the  game — I  must 
kiss  you." 

Eleanor  turned  her  back  on  him  and  went 
into  the  house.  The  genial  student  appear- 
ed. "I  will  pop  you  some  fresh  corn,  Miss 
Arundell,"  said  he;  "this  surprise- party  is 
in  your  honor — did  you  know  ?" 

He  put  some  corn  and  butter  in  a  spider 
and  whirled  it  on  the  red-hot  stove.  He  was 
a  dapper  little  fellow,  with  an  innocent  brow, 
and  companionable,  very. 

He  and  Eleanor  sat  on  the  wood-box,  with 
a  milk -pan  full  of  popcorn  between  them, 
and  they  were  exceeding  merry. 

But  when  the  last  sleigh-bell  of  the  sur- 

121 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

prise-party  had  jingled  away  in  the  distance, 
Eleanor  still  turned  her  back  with  dignity 
towards  Daniel  Scheffer,  and  sat  down  at 
the  remotest  possible  distance  from  him  and 
his  workshop,  to  write  a  letter. 

"My  OWN  DEAREST  MARTHA, — I  never  was  so  well 
in  my  life.  The  senery  is  niagnifisent.  I  love  to  look 
at  the  distant  snow-covered  mountain  peeks — " 

"  I  hope  I  did  not  offend  you,  Miss  Arun- 
dell,"  said  a  deep,  sad  voice  behind  her. 

Eleanor  bent  lower,  brilliant,  and  wrote 
again,  in  poetic  repetition, "  the  distant  moun- 
tain peeks." 

"  Won't  you  forgive  me  ?" 

"  Would  you  have  been — insolent,  if  you 
had  caught  me  ?" 

"  I  did  catch  you,  and  I  was  not  insolent." 

"  But  would  you,  another  time  ?" 

"No." 

"  Not  any  number  of  times  ?" 

"No.  If  you  wished  to  run  'round  the 
barn — and  there  were  no  others  following, 
to  annoy  you — you  may  be  sure  you  should 
suffer  no  insolence  from  me." 

"  I  will  try  to  forgive  you,  if  I  can,  Mr. 
Scheffer,  but  you  grieved  me  very  deeply. 

122 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

Good-night !"     She  held  out  her  hand  with 
a  sad  and  sweet  gentleness. 

"  Yes,  Joan.  You  may  sit  down  until  I 
have  finished  my  letter. 

"The  distant  mountain  peeks"  [she  reviewed  brief- 
ly, and  added]  "are  beautiful.  Mrs.  Scheffer  is  al- 
ready improving,  but  slowly,  and  we  may  remane  some 
time.  Joan  is  faithful  as  ever.  Mary  Ann  is  extremly 
useful.  Do  write  me  about  precious  Forrester.  We 
cannot  all  have  quallities  like  you  and  Mr.  Scheffer. 
How  dilagent  he  is  !  We  do  riot  get  on  very  well,  but 
I  came  for  the  senery." 


CHAPTER   XVII 

THUS  I  received  with  satisfaction  the  nat- 
ural confirmation  of  my  foregone  conclu- 
sions. 

"  Well,  if  she  is  well  and  happy  and  so  in- 
nocently entertained,  why  not  let  the  dear 
child  remain  ?"  said  Madam  Arundell,  as  it 
were  with  a  glow  of  affection.  "  And  now, 
Miss  Scheffer,  as  to  President  Thome's  note, 
there  is  a  distressing  number  of  those  poor 
colleges,  but  he  is  related,  distantly,  to  some 
of  our  best  families,  and  the  list  of  donors 
is  noteworthy.  Please  read  the  names 
again." 

I  did  so.  She  listened  with  simple  rever- 
ence. "  Our  name,"  she  said,  blushing  with 
pleasure,  and  pointing  at  the  head  of  the  list, 
"  invariably  stands  among  those.  When  he 
calls,  dear  Miss  Scheffer,  may  I  beg  of  you 
to  take  down  my  check  to  him,  regretting 
my  inability  to  see  him,  and  will  you  invite 
him  cordially  to  luncheon  ?  The  poor  man 
124 


THE    MORAL  IMBECILES 

has  excellent  sense  and  will  not  trouble  you 
by  accepting." 

"  Very  well." 

"  And — you  see  how  I  lean  on  your  kind- 
ness— it  is  an  important  day  at  the  Wood- 
side  Hospital,  of  which,  you  know,  I  am  one 
of  the  directors.  A  vote  is  to  be  taken  as 
to  whether  a  less  expensive  quality  of  meat 
is  to  be  substituted.  I  have  no  doubt  that 
the  more  economical  pieces  of  meat  furnish 
fully  as  much  nourishment  as  those  we  are 
accustomed  to  supply  for  our  own  tables.  It 
is  already  known  that  I  give  you  the  author- 
ity. Will  you  go  and  discuss  and  vote  upon 
this  matter  for  me — in  fact,  far  more  clever- 
ly than  I  could  do — ordering  the  carriage  at 
two  ?" 

"  With  pleasure,"  I  rejoined,  brazenly  de- 
termining that  the  full  influence  of  my  vica- 
rious vote  should  go  towards  the  continuance 
of  superior  meats. 

Watson  knocked,  and  spoke,  standing  out- 
side the  door : 

"  The  laundress's  sister  has  sent  a  de- 
spatch for  her,  mum,  as  one  of  her  children 
is  dying  with  croup,  mum.  I  left  her  weep- 
ing, mum." 

125 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

Madam  Arundell  sighed,  quite  impatient- 
ly. "  Well,  tell  her  to  return  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible. With  the  funeral  and  all,  it  will  prob- 
ably occupy  three  days,  Watson  ?" 

"  Presumably,  mum." 

"Well?" 

"  She  requests  to  know  if  you  will  kindly 
reimburse  her  with  her  wages  to  date, mum?" 

"  Oh,  of  course,"  said  the  lady,  indifferent- 
ly. "  My  dear  Miss  Scheffer,  will  you  look 
in  my  book  of  household  expenses  ?  Maggie 
Cruise — how  much  to  date?  Four  dollars 
and  a  half?  My  purse — thank  you!  How 
provoking !  I  have  nothing  under  a  five." 

"  I  have  fifty  cents  in  my  pocket,  mum," 
came  the  stately  obsequious  old  voice,  out- 
side the  door — "  which,  if  Miss  Scheffer  will 
receive  and  kindly  convoy  to  you,  mum,  will 
relieve  the  occasion  of  its  present  embarrass- 
ment, mum,  and  I  will  take  the  five-dollar 
note  to  Maggie,  without  delay." 

"Very  well,  and  be  sure  she  pays  you 
back  the  fifty  cents,  Watson.  Correctness 
in  business  is  a  duty — a  duty,  Watson." 

"I  attend,  mum.     I  have  another  com- 
munication to  make  to  you,  mum,  as  soon 
as  I  have  despatched  the  matter  in  hand." 
126 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

Madam  Arundell  waited,  uneasily. 

Watson  returned.  "Mr.  Arundell's  man 
was  reading  the  paper  to  him  this  morning, 
mum,  and  he  would  have  him  turn  to  the 
play  notices,  and  picked  out  the  '  The  School 
for  Scandal '  (now  reviving  in  New  York,  as 
you  know,  mum),  and  sent  him  down  im- 
mejately  to  purchase  a  box,  mum." 

Mrs.  Arundell  sighed  again,  and  fretfully. 

"  His  man,  thinking,  mum,  that  he  would 
have  forgotten  it  as  usual,  by  the  time  he 
returned,  simply  took  a  little  stroll,  mum, 
and  came  back." 

"Well?" 

"  Mr.  Arundell  said  to  him,  '  Have  you  se- 
cured the  box  ?'  The  man  was  in  extramis, 
so  to  speak.  On  his  replying  in  the  nega- 
tive, Mr.  Arundell — to  be  brafe — pitched  into 
him,  mum,  and  even  threw  a  variety  of  pro- 
jectiles at  him,  mum,  and  sent  him  out  again. 
This  time,  the  man  went  down  and  secured 
the  box,  mum,  and  Mr.  Arundell  is  dwelling 
on  the  anticipation  with  pleasure,  mum." 

"  He  is  the  only  one  who  can  do  so,  I  am 
sure,"  said  madam,  bitterly.  "  What  shall 
we  do?"  she  added,  turning  to  me,  with  a 
face  of  grievous  despair.  "  I  need  not  sug- 

127 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

gest  to  you  how  positively  unfit  my  poor 
husband  is  to  attend  the  theater." 

"  I  think  he  will  behave  very  well,"  I  ob- 
served, hopefully. 

"He  is  confident  that  Miss  Scheffer  will 
do  him  the  honor  to  accompany  him,"  in- 
terpolated the  patient  Watson,  behind  the 
door. 

"Could  your  —  could  your  magnanimity 
extend  so  far,  dear  Miss  Scheffer?  You 
alone  have  any  possible  power  to  save  the 
occasion  from  disaster.  Of  course  you  must 
take  a  maid;  his  man  must  go,  and  Wat- 
son." 

"Thus  reinforced,  I  am  sure  we  shall 
prove  a  very  discreet  party  of  revellers,"  I 
returned. 

"He  may  forget  it,"  she  groaned,  with 
faint  hope. 

"  I  think,  in  this  instance,  mum,  his  mem- 
ory is  likely  to  prove  retentive,  mum." 

"  Yery  well,  Watson.     You  may  go." 

My  host's  memory  proved  retentive  in  an 
eminent  degree.  Having,  among  other  vi- 
cissitudes of  the  day,  handed  Madam  Arun- 
dell's  check  to  the  poor  college  president, 
who,  by  the  way,  perhaps  owing  to  some 

128 


fault  of  manner  on  my  part,  accepted  the 
invitation  to  luncheon  and  availed  himself 
heartily  of  its  privileges,  and  having  unhesi- 
tatingly cast  my  vote  for  the  best  sirloin- 
steaks  at  the  hospital,  I  took  my  place  in  the 
carriage,  that  evening,  beside  the  most  pure- 
hearted  exquisite  old  dandy  existent  in  the 
city. 

"Do  I  appear  well,  Martha?  You  are 
not  ashamed  of  me?  I  haven't  been  very 
social  about  town  since  you  went  away. 
Now  you  are  home  again,  we  must  make  up 
for  lost  time,  my  daughter — we  must  make 
up  for  lost  time.  Watson !" 

"Yes,  sir!"  replied  that  much  -  enduring 
individual,  sitting  stiffly  away  from  the 
bouncing  maid  at  his  side.  The  valet  was 
beside  the  coachman,  on  the  box.  "I  at- 
tend, sir." 

"  "Well,  well,  Watson,  cheer  up !  Put  your 
diploma  from  the  theological  seminary  in 
your  pocket.  The  funeral's  over,  and  we're 
out  on  a  lark,  old  fellow — he !  he ! — going  to 
the  play  again,  Watson — going  to  the  play !" 

"  Unquestionably,  sir." 

"D — n  your  canticles  unabridged,  Wat- 
son. Well,  well,  we're  growing  old  togeth- 

i  129 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

er,  old  boy.  You'll  never  be  thrown  on  the 
world,  Watson  —  I'll  look  out  for  that. 
Martha !"  he  added,  distinctly,  "  who  is  this 
person  sitting  opposite  me  ?" 

"  A  new  maid." 

"Oh!  eh?  Ah! — very  well,  very  well. 
"Why  the  deuce  are  we  taking  a  whole  dray- 
load  of  domestics  to  the  play,  Martha  ?" 

"  It  is  the  proper  thing  to  do,  now.  It  is 
a  mere  fad." 

"Makes  the  air  very  close,  Martha. 
Where's  old  nurse  Kose  ?  Following  along 
somewhere  with  my  penny  whistle  and  tin 
soldiers,  I  suppose  ?" 

"  She  has  pledged  herself  never  to  attend 
the  theatre,  and  is  morally  debarred  from 
doing  so." 

"  Fiddlesticks  !  Did  you  ever  see  such  a 
houseful  of  picked  and  qualified  old  fools, 
Martha?  Where's  my  little  Nell  ?" 

"  She  is  away  in  the  country  for  recrea- 
tion." 

"  Ah— who  let  her  go?" 

"I  did." 

"It's  all  right,  Martha  —  perfectly  satis- 
fied— leave  everything  with  you,  Martha — 
Here  we  are !  Wake  up,  Watson !  Still  at- 

130 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

tending  the  funeral,  I  see.  Keep  well  be- 
hind there,  young  woman !  Strut  along  be- 
hind there,  Solibeg!  I'm  not  going  to  be 
seen  going  into  the  theatre  with  a  whole 
cabbage  -  garden  !  Come,  Martha !  Come, 
my  child,  keep  close  to  me !" 

"We  sat  sumptuously  and  conspicuously  in 
the  box,  at  the  right  of  the  stage,  our  ret- 
inue in  the  rear;  and  the  form  of  my  old 
beau  shone  out,  polished  and  handsome,  in 
the  gaslight. 

"Whether  prompted  to  attendance  by  Mrs. 
Arundell,  as  a  further  safeguard  to  us,  I  dis- 
covered Beeman  Price  in  an  orchestra-chair 
near  by,  wearing  a  lively  expression  of  cyn- 
icism. 

From  the  opposite  box,  two  superbly  well- 
groomed  old  gentlemen,  dandies  of  a  perfect 
era,  like  my  own  escort,  rose  and  came  over 
to  us.  My  host  and  they  were  exultant  as 
three  cherubic  boys  at  meeting  one  another 
again  under  such  delightful  auspices.  Their 
bows,  their  smiles,  their  waved  and  scented 
locks  were  charming  to  contemplate. 

"  Ned  !  Jim !"  said  my  host,  pressing  a 
hand  of  either  of  these  spotless  and  courtly 
millionaires,  "  let  me  introduce  you  to  my 

131 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

grandson's  wife,  Mrs.  Arundell — Mrs.  Forrest- 
er Arundell.  We  are  likely  to  keep  up  the 
family  prestige,  eh  ?  —  he !  he !  —  yes.  Mrs. 
Arundell — Mrs.  Forrester  Arundell !"  he  re- 
peated, "with  sublime  precision. 

The  two  bowed  impressively.  I  felt  that 
Beeman  Price  had  also  come  to  the  box  and 
was  witnessing  this  scene  in  the  silent  back- 
ground. At  all  events,  all  that  he  could  dis- 
cover on  my  face  was  an  indifferent  smile. 
To  thwart  my  host's  hallucinations  in  our 
present  position  would  have  been  simply  to 
eclipse  the  stage  in  tragic  or  melodramatic 
action. 

"  We  shall  have  the  honor  of  calling  upon 
you  without  delay,"  said  one,  indicating  the 
intentions  of  his  family  towards  me,  with  an- 
other bow.  "  We  shall  have  the  very  great 
pleasure  of  calling  upon  you  without  delay," 
said  the  other,  similarly  bending  low,  and 
they  departed  to  their  own  box. 

Beeman  Price  drew  up  a  chair  behind  my 
own. 

"  Do  you  want  me  to  go  over  and  explain 
your  '  grandfather-in-law's '  fiasco  to  those 
superannuated  old  dudes  ?"  he  whispered  in 
my  ear. 

132 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"As  you  please,"  I  replied,  and  looked, 
without  concern,  to  the  stage. 

"  You  ought  to  been  a  man,"  chuckled  he. 
"You'd  bluff  the  whole  lot  of  us.  You're 
acting  sensible,  though.  I  admire  ye,  egad ! 
It's  always  sensible  to  keep  your  head.  They 
all  know  poor  Arundell.  Ye  acted  like  the 
top-crust  o'  quality,  and  sensible  too — egad ! 
And,  according  to  your  own  tell,  ye're  only 
a  poor  woman  in  the  working-classes." 

"And  never  more  so  than  during  this  pres- 
ent stage  of  my  existence." 

He  laughed  delightedly.  "I  can  tell  ye 
one  thing,"  he  whispered,  "and  I've  made 
up  my  mind  to  say  it.  It's  optional  with  you 
whether  you  go  back  to  work,  or  stay  in 
that  mare's-nest  up  at  Arundell's,  either  one. 
There's  another  course  before  ye — and  mighty 
welcome — if  ye'll  take  it.  You  know  what 
I  mean.  "Will  ye  think  it  over  ?  Say,  will 
ye  think  it  over  ?" 

"  I  should  never  please  you.  I  am  extrav- 
agant." 

"  No !" 

"  I  am  excessively  extravagant.  I  am  a 
spendthrift." 

"  You  are  chaffing." 

133 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"  Ah,  if  I  only  were !  Given  your  wealth 
at  my  disposal — and  I  should  never  marry 
you  unless  you  put  your  wealth  at  my  dis- 
posal— I  should  give  away  at  a  speedier  rate 
even  than  you  could  accumulate.  I  have 
many  schemes  of  that  sort  in  my  head.  It 
only  needs  the  means  to  carry  them  out." 

"  It's  a  propensity,  then,  a  woman  of  your 
sense  might  overcome." 

"  It  is  something  deeper  than  that.  It  is 
a  taint  or  failing  in  the  very  fibre  of  my 
being.  Always  and  fatally,  I  have  allowed 
my  plans  to  be  thwarted  by  some  weak  yield- 
ing to  the  pitiful  disturbances  in  the  air  about 
me.  Conscious,  if  you  will,  of  being  strong 
and  able  to  sail  alone,  I  have  never  been  any- 
thing but  a  tug  for  drifting  boats :  no  straight 
course,  no  sure  haven,  nothing  but  this  desper- 
ate struggle  to  keep  off  the  immediate  rocks." 

"Come,"  he  whispered,  impatiently,  "talk 
sense.  I've  —  I've  got  love  enough  for  ye, 
too.  Will  you  marry  me  ?" 

"  Will  you  sign  over  your  property  to  me, 
just  keeping  enough  for  your  own  simple 
needs  ?" 

"  Lord  ! — there's  always  got  to  be  a  screw 
loose  in  a  woman's  head  somewhere !" 
134 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"  In  all  heads,  it  is  said." 

"  There  ain't  one  of  you  but  can  torment 
a  man.  Will  you  think  it  over,  then,  some 
time  when  you  are  not  chaffing  ?" 

"  Alas !  I  shall  be  '  chaffing'  till  the  wind- 
ing-sheet covers  me.  You  may  make  up  your 
mind  to  that.  I  was  born  so." 

"Martha!"  exclaimed  my  host, discontent- 
edly, aloud,  as  the  curtain  rose  on  the  second 
act — "  I'm  sick  of  this — let's  go  home !  The 
actors  are  dead,  Martha — the  old  boys  and 
girls  are  dead.  I  see.  "Well,  well — very  pret- 
ty acting — very  much  obliged ;  but  let's  wake 
up  our  cabbage  garden  back  here,  and  get 
out !  Come,  Martha — come  !" 

This  was  uttered  in  so  plaintive  and  heart- 
broken a  tone,  no  one  within  the  range  of 
hearing  could  have  felt  scandalized.  Beernan 
Price  accompanied  us  to  the  carriage  door. 

"  We're  full  here,  Price,  sorry  to  say,"  said 
my  host — "  very  close,  as  it  is.  Next  time, 
goin'  to  charter  an  omnibus  and  take  the 
scullery -maids  and  footboy  —  show  just  fit 
for  'em  !  Won't  make  much  out  o'  Martha, 
Price  —  he !  he !  —  lots  o'  tunes  to  Martha. 
Always  glad  to  see  ye,  Price— always  wel- 
come. Tell  the  man  to  drive  on ! 

135 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"  Old  boys  and  girls  dead.  There  was 
acting!  Well,  well — very  pretty  play.  You 
look  quite  chirked-up,  "Watson.  Need  a  little 
recreation,  all  of  us.  Give  us  some  poetry, 
Watson." 

"  Yes,  sir.  Life's  a  play,  and  all  the  men. 
and  women  marely  actors.  They  have  their 
intrances  and  extrances — " 

"  That  '11  do !  Yery  good — very  fine,  in- 
deed, Watson.  D d  trite,  though!  Dis- 
tressingly trite!"  My  host  sighed,  and  fell 
asleep. 

"  You  are  home  early,"  said  Madam  Arun- 
dell,  pale  and  with  set  lips ;  "  tell  me  the  worst." 

"  There  was  no  worst.  Our  conduct  was 
admirable.  We  simply  tired  of  the  play." 

"  If  you  leave  me,"  said  she,  letting  one 
of  those  unfamiliar  tears  start  to  her  eyes, 
"  I  shall  die.  I  have  forgotten  to  ask  you," 
she  added — "  how  did  you  get  on  with  poor 
President  Thorne  ?" 

"  He  expressed  unbounded  thanks  towards 
you,  and  deeply  appreciated  the  luncheon  as 
well." 

"  He  stayed  for  luncheon !  Dear  me — the 
poor  man  must  have  been  positively  hungry ! 
And  about  the  hospital  3" 

136 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"  I  spoke  at  some  leDgth,  and  voted  for 
the  best  steaks  for  the  patients." 

"You  thought  it  wise?"  she  murmured, 
feebly,  but  without  hardness. 

"  I  have  been  employed  in  such  places, 
you  know,  and  have  had  some  practical  ex- 
perience. I  thought  it  wise." 

"Very  well,  dear  Miss  Scheffer  —  thank 
you !  Will  you — can  you  read  to  me  just  a 
little,  as  usual  ?— the  good  book — yes.  Your 
voice  comforts  me.  I  have  been  quite  un- 
strung." 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

MRS.  JOHN  ARUNDELL'S  empty  carriage  ap- 
peared at  the  door  next  morning.  The  foot- 
man descended  and  delivered  a  note  : 

"Will  dear  Miss  Scheffer  kindly  come  to  me,  at  her 
convenience  ?  The  carriage  will  wait." 

With  that  extreme  pliancy  which  only  the 
desperately  wilful  can  command,  I  informed 
Madam  Arundell  of  my  errand  and  prepared 
to  go. 

"I  think  it  is  very  inconsiderate  of  Au- 
gusta, to  say  the  least,  to  send  for  you  this 
morning,  when  I  am  feeling  almost  a  pre- 
monition of  another  attack,"  said  madam, 
with  considerable  healthy  spite.  "  She  prob- 
ably only  wishes  you  for  the  purpose  of  de- 
livering one  of  her  lectures." 

"  Better  'n  having  her  come  here,  Laura," 
chuckled  my  host — for  we  were  all  of  a  phys- 
ical condition,  now,  to  be  ensconced  together 
in  the  library  for  a  time.  "  Martha  '11  talk 
up  to  her.  Lots  o'  tunes  to  Martha." 
138 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

I  went  with  no  aggressive  spirit,  however, 
and  I  was  touched  to  see  Mrs.  John  Arun- 
dell's  kind  old  face  actually  peering  out  for 
me,  and  that  anxiously,  at  a  window. 

"  Something  has  really  occurred  among 
the  moral  imbeciles,"  I  thought. 

The  rooms  were  spacious  as  those  I  had 
left,  and  much  colder,  as  though  the  more 
bracing  quality  of  grandaunt  Augusta's  nat- 
ure had  diffused  itself  in  the  general  atmos- 
phere. 

"Come  to  my  private  room,  dear,"  she 
said,  with  a  somewhat  nervous  haste,  and 
seated  me.  "  Lettice !"  she  called  to  her 
maid, "  bring  Miss  Scheffer  a  fan.  1  am  sure, 
dear  Miss  Scheffer,  you  wish  a  fan."  I  ac- 
cepted this  corollary  of  polite  existence  with 
rather  numb  fingers. 

kVWe  Americans  keep  our  houses  too  warm," 
she  murmured ;  "  we  have  lost  healthful  vig- 
or of  constitution.  I  have  brought  up  my 
own  family  more  ruggedly  and  —  abstemi- 
ously." 

"  They  are  all  still  with  you?" 

"  No,  dear — no.     Four  of  my  beloved  ones 
are  at  rest.     The  other  four  are  long  since 
flown  from  the  home-nest." 
139 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

The  home-nest  seemed  to  me  at  present 
like  a  very  exposed  heritage  on  the  bough 
of  a  chill-tree.  But  I  knew  that  Mrs.  John 
Arundell  was  tenderly  good. 

"  I  hear,"  she  said,  "  dear,  dear  child  —  I 
hear  that  you  went  with  my  poor  afflicted 
brother  to  the  play  last  night  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  summoned  up  the  fortitude  to  do 
so." 

"  But — bear  with  me,  dear  child ;  I  am  al- 
ready warmly  attached  to  you — what  if  you 
had  spent  those  precious  hours  in  trying  to 
bring  him  into  the  fold  ?" 

"I  think  he  is  there  already;  and,  for 
that  part,  his  kind  impulses  often  shame 
me." 

"Alas,  no — he  has  never  yet  been  folded 
with  us ! — I  hear  that  he  introduced  some 
people  to  you  as  my  grandnephew  For- 
rester's wife." 

"  He  did  so,  but  without  doubt  the  poor 
man's  condition  of  mind  is  fully  known  to 
his  acquaintances." 

"Alas!  I  fear  that  these  particular  indi- 
viduals are  nearly  as  daft  as  he.  The  wild- 
ness  of  youth  bears  thorns,  my  child." 

"  In  that  case,  the  misstatement  of  an- 

140 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

other  unsound  mind  would  probably  make 
little  impression  upon  theirs." 

"  I  dare  say  it  has  already  escaped  from 
the  unholy  throng  that  perturb  their  diseased 
memory.  But  this  is  not  to  the  point.  I 
hear  that  my  poor  dear  grand  nephew  writes 
to  you,  and  you  alone  ?" 

"  Yes,  he  persists  in  doing  so." 

"  Does  this — oh,  my  dear — does  this  sug- 
gest to  you  no  opportunity  of  bringing  him 
into  the  fold  ?" 

"  I  consider  him  already  there.  He  is  over- 
coming the  old  life.  He  is  striving  bravely." 

"  But  the  first  step  ?" 

"  He  is  nobly  taking  it." 

"  Alas !  that  the  latitudinarian  spirit  of  our 
times  should  blind  a  conscience  like  yours. 
Oh,  my  child !" 

There  were  faithful  tears  in  her  eyes. 

"  Do  not  be  distressed,"  I  said,  gently, 
feeling  a  good  courage.  "  I  am  walking  faith- 
fully, as  I  see  the  way.  If  I  am  blind,  I  shall 
still  reach  the  light !" 

"  Oh,  with  that  spirit  you  will !  You  will ! 
And  have  you,  then,  no  attachment  for  my 
grandnephew  ?" 

"  In  the  sense  you  mean,  none ;  not  the 

141 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

least !"  I  replied,  from  calm  habit  of  thought : 
and  then,  being  put  face  to  face  with  the 
question,  I  realized  that  I  had  lied !  Keal- 
ized,  suddenly  !  And,  fearless  of  much,  I  was 
in  terror,  not  of  my  untruth,  but  of  my  love. 
Were  his  daily  letters  (those  unanswered 
letters),  his  soul's  confessions,  his  boyish, 
manly,  never-doubting  love,  taken  from  me, 
should  I  miss  them  ?  (That  was  implied  in 
her  question.)  Yes,  after  all,  as  my  own 
heart !  I  felt  it,  and  I  hated  my  love.  I 
was  reduced,  then,  to  the  condition  of  moral 
imbecility  with  the  rest,  and  worse !  They 
usually  told  the  truth  as  they  saw  it.  I  had 
lied  blankly. 

"  You  are  pale,  dear — let  me  fan  you." 
"  I  am  rather  cold,  I  think,"  I  said. 
"  I  am  tiring  you.  These  are  deep  and 
vital  questions,  but  your  disdain  of  frivolity, 
your  severity  of  purpose,  your  earnest  truth- 
fulness draw  me  to  you.  I  am  speaking  of 
my  grandnephew — of  Forrester.  This  was 
paramount  on  my  heart  when  I  sent  for  you. 
The  arms  of  our  family  love  should  be  about 
him;  he  should  be  with  us.  You  realize 
that.  Dear  Laura  has  been  ill,  and  psycho- 
logically— dear  child — you  may  have  discov- 

142 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

ered  that  her  affections  are — charming,  but 
apt  to  be  heedless.  I  speak  to  you  with  in- 
stinctive trust.  My  own  home  is  freely — 
pleadingly — open  to  Forrester.  Will  you  tell 
him  so  ?" 

"  Surely — surely,  it  is  your  place  to  tell 
him." 

I  felt  the  blood  in  my  cheeks.  I  used  the 
fan  at  last  gratefully. 

"  Alas,  dear — the  eccentricities  of  youth ! 
He  pays  no  heed  to  my  voice.  It  is  a  mes- 
sage— a  message.  In  the  providence  of  God, 
you  have  influence  over  his  precious  soul.  I 
know  you  will  not  refuse  to  give  a  message 
from  me." 

"  I  will  be  your  amanuensis." 

"  Lettice !  bring  paper  and  ink." 

"  MY  DEARLY  BELOVED  FoKRESTER, — However  far 
the  lamb  may  have  wandered  on  the  cold  and  thorny 
mountains,  a  welcome  awaits  him  who  returns  with  a 
bruised  and  contrite  heart.  I,  your  aunt  Augusta,  yearn 
for  you.  Come  to  me.  Though  I  may  be  debarred, 
literally,  from  meeting  you  at  the  gate — our  modern 
town-houses  being  differently  constructed  —  my  heart 
goes  out  to  you,  even  where  you  are,  and  weeps  over 
you  with  inexpressible  longing. 
"  Yours, 

"  AUGUSTA  ARUNDELL 

"(PerM.  S.)." 
143 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

I  had  disdained  hysterics  all  my  life,  but, 
as  I  transcribed  this  letter,  a  desperate  and 
immoderate  desire  to  laugh  seized  upon  my 
sinful  heart. 

"Lettice!  Miss  Scheffer  has  dropped  her 
fan.  "What  is  the  temperature  of  the  room, 
Lettice  ?" 

"Sixty -two,  ma'am!"  snapped  Lettice, 
with  bitter  satisfaction. 

"  You  sometimes  read  the  mercury  incor- 
rectly, Lettice,"  replied  her  mistress,  sooth- 
ingly. "  You  may  go,  Lettice." 

"  Dear  Miss  Scheffer — one  thing  more  and 
I  will  release  you,  for  I  know  how  strin- 
gently poor  suffering  Laura  holds  you.  Dear 
child — bear  with  me — will  you  promise  me, 
however  greatly  to  your  worldly  advantage, 
not  to  consider  Beeman  Price  (he  is  utterly, 
utterly  absorbed  in  the  world),  not  to  con- 
sider him  until  he  may,  in  time,  show  some 
inclination  to  approach  the  fold  ?" 

"  Most  solemnly." 

"  Eleanor's  temporary  engagement  to  that 
greed -absorbed  man  was  made  without  my 
consent ;  but  she  was  delivered  from  the 
lions." 

"  I  fancy  she  usually  is  ?" 
144 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"Yes.  Our  sweet  Eleanor  —  I  speak  to 
you  with  the  utmost  confidence — is  the  only 
really  religious  one  in  my  sister's  family.  I 
think  the  child  is  full  of  earnest  deliberation, 
and  is  only  waiting  to  come  forward.  Take 
the  fan  with  you,  dear  Miss  Scheffer ;  your 
cheeks  are  unusually  flushed,  and  your  eyes 
are  a  trifle  —  a  trifle — feverish.  Lettice! 
Lettice !  bring  my  homoeopathic  case.  Take 
six  of  these  little  pellets,  on  retiring.  Six — 
my  child.  But  I  forget ! — you  are  far  more 
learned  in  medicine  than  I." 

"  My  own  symptoms  are  a  mystery  to  me, 
however,"  I  replied,  firmly  and  sadly.  "I 
will  take  the  pellets." 

I  was  embraced,  and  the  chariot  bore  me 
home. 

"What  is  Augusta's  fad  now?"  inquired 
Madam  Arundell,  coolly.  "Temperance?" 

"  No,  she  has  prescribed  for  me.  I  have 
some  of  her  pellets." 

"  Great  heavens  ! — you  are  not  ill  ?" 

"  Not  at  all,  but  prevention  is  a  noble 
theory,  and  I  accepted  the  pellets." 

"  I  declare,  Augusta  is  deplorable !  —  to 
warn  you  of  illness,  when  I  never  saw  you 
looking  so— charming." 
K  145 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"'It  is  the  bright  day  that  brings  forth 
the  adder  and  that  craves  wary  walking.' " 

"  Perfectly  deplorable !" 

"  Lord  !  Laura  —  can't  ye  see  through  a 
joke?  Martha  '11  fling  Augusta's  old  sugar 
plums  to  perdition.  "When  I  eat  confection- 
ery— want  something  big  enough  to  see  and 
some  flavor  to  it.  Come  up  to  the  fire,  my 
daughter,  and  get  warm.  Remember  how 
we  shivered  last  time  we  went  to  'Gusta's, 
Laura?  ~No  wine  —  no  fire  —  nothin'  but 
Croton  water  and  'booklets.'  Gusta's  got 
the  constitution  of  an  ox.  Come!  come, 
my  daughter,  come  and  get  warm !  God 
bless  ye ! — house  all  sunshine  since  ye  came 
home." 


CHAPTER  XIX 

JOAN  took  a  trip  down  to  the  village  store 
and  purchased  some  new  dishes,  Mary  Ann 
and  Daniel  having  carried  on  a  course  of 
considerable  robust  demolition.  Also,  she 
brought  back  for  Mrs.  Scheffer  and  herself 
some  brilliantly  flowered  calico  cloth,  of  a 
design  not  authorized  by  anything  in  nature, 
and  she  and  the  convalescent  sewed  together 
with  feminine  anticipation. 

"  It  surpass  the  rob's  of  Ne'  York !"  said 
Joan,  trying  Mrs.  Scheffer's  on  her  at  last ; 
"it  call  you  back  to  youth,  madam  —  by 
grasshus !" 

Mrs.  Scheffer,  in  her  heart,  admitted  this, 
as  she  gazed  in  the  glass.  Joan,  having  re- 
deemed her  body,  both  towards  health  and 
such  efflorescence  of  outward  adornment — 
Mrs.  Scheffer  thought  to  touch  on  Joan's 
own  spiritual  condition — 

"  I  long  to  get  able  to  take  you  to  church 
with  me — once — Joan." 

147 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"  "Wa-al-.no  matter  if  I  go  to  church  with 
you,  I  get  abs'lution  for  it,"  said  Joan,  whose 
good  heart  saw  a  way  through  all  difficulties. 

Mrs.  Scheffer  sighed ;  but  she  was  very 
fond  of  Joan,  and  they  sewed  on  happily 
together. 

Eleanor,  meanwhile — if  Katherine  Eleanor 
Arundell  could  have  realized  in  the  remotest 
sense  that  Dan  Scheffer,  the  Verjnont  farmer 
and  amateur  experimentalist,  could  deliber- 
ately design  to  marry  her,  his  course  might 
have  been  more  interesting  than  it  was,  but 
it  could  not  have  been  more  arduous. 

He  was  baffled  by  her  sublime  uncon- 
sciousness. 

So  they  carried  on  the  farm  together,  with 
Mary  Ann  as  vigorous  deputy. 

"  It  is  more  of  a  uniform  heat  out  here  in 
the  barn  than  it  is  in  the  house,"  said  Miss 
Arundell,  sitting  on  a  three-legged  stool  near 
by  to  see  that  Dan  milked  properly,  and 
now  and  then  holding  out  her  cup  for  a 
fresh  supply  to  sip  ;  "  it  is  charming." 

"  Them  that  loves  new  milk  has  a  honest 

heart  in  them  and  a  stout  corporation,"  said 

Mary  Ann,  seriously,  who  was  collecting 

the  hens'  eggs  in  odd  corners.     Mary  Ann 

148 


was  constantly  singing,  these  days.  What 
the  old  man  said  to  his  wife  she  never  dis- 
closed, but  that  he  did  once  say  something 
to  her  was  mysteriously  and  indelibly  im- 
pressed on  the  minds  of  those  about  her. 

"  It's  the  breath  of  the  cattle  makes  it  so 
warm  here,"  said  Dan. 

"  And  their  breath  is  so  sweet,"  said  Elea- 
nor. 

"It  isn't  any  sweeter  than  yours,"  said 
Dan,  punching  his  big  head  against  the  side 
of  the  cow. 

"  Thank  you !  But  mine  would  not  warm 
a  barn,  I  am  sure — unless  you  had  been 
making  a  stew,  Mr.  Scheffer ! — a  rabbit  stew 
with  whole  onions  and  carrot  tails." 

Eleanor  was  merry.  This  was  all  only  a 
little  episode  in  her  life,  and  she  would  be 
going  back  to  more  luxurious  scenes.  To 
Daniel,  it  was  life  in  the  intense  sense  of 
tragedy. 

"Don't  bother  the  poor  biy  about  his 
stew,"  said  Mary  Ann ;  "  'twas  a  regular 
man -stew,  that's  all,  and  good  for  the  cor- 
poration." 

"  Say  '  physique,'  Mary  Ann." 

"You  know  very  well,  Miss  Eleanor,  I 

149 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

won't  giddy  myself  with  words  I  ain't  eddi- 
cated  up  to,  no  more  than  a  Chinaman's 
handwriting.  —  So  ye  want  to  set  agin  my 
will,  do  ye !"  she  cried,  seizing  a  squawking 
hen  with  a  practised  hand.  Eleanor  shrieked. 

"  It  '11  bite  you,  Mary  Ann  !" 

"  Bite  me ! — with  her  claws  in  me  fist  and 
her  neck  like  a  string.  Ye'd  ought  to  marry 
a  farmer,  Miss  Eleanor.  Ye'd  assist  him  fine !" 

"  You  would  make  a  good  farmer's  wife, 
Mary  Ann." 

"  I  want  none,"  said  Mary  Ann,  giving 
the  mad  hen  a  toss  towards  its  loft.  "My 
prayers  on  that  subjec'  is  aisy  said,  with  a 
quick  '  amin '  to  it." 

"  What  has  set  you  against  marrying  ?" 
teased  Eleanor. 

"  It's  never  being  wanted  has  set  me  agin 
it,"  said  Mary  Ann,  with  paralyzing  frank- 
ness. "  I'll  take  in  the  eggs  and  be  gettin' 
the  tay  ready." 

"  She  would  make  a  good  farmer's  wife," 
said  Eleanor,  contemplating  the  scene  around 
her  and  its  fitness  to  Mary  Ann. 

"  Very  good,"  said  Daniel,  calmly,  rising 
with  his  full  pail. 

"And  yet  —  the  calf  is  biting  your  coat- 

150 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

tail,  Mr.  Scheffer! — I  really  think  she  is  not 
good  enough  for  you." 

"  How  high  do  you  think  I  ought  to  look  ?" 

"  Oh,  quite  out  of  my  sight ! — some  woman 
principal  of  a  school,  or  one  of  these  women 
— women  lawyers,  or  doctors,  like  your  sis- 
ter— my  own  dearest  Martha." 

"Do  you  think  I  am  anything  like  my 
sister  ?" 

"  You  are  her  big  image." 

"  But  in  other  qualities  besides  looks?" 

"  She  is  so  entrancingly  sharp.  But  you, 
of  course,  are  just  a  bit  more  gentle." 

"  I  am  going  to  try  to  cultivate  decision 
of  character,  Miss  Arundell.  Will  you  carry 
the  lantern  ?" 

"You  know  I  always  carry  the  lantern. 
Don't  forget  to  feed  Billy." 

"  I  never  yet  forgot  any  creature  under 
my  care.  I'd  rather  go  hungry  myself/' 

"  Oh  Daniel !  the  calf  really  chewed  up 
some  of  your  coat  while  you  stood  there ! 
It  looks  so  comical." 

"  I  am  glad  you  are  amused.  You  must 
mend  it  for  me,  this  evening." 

"  Oh,  Joan  will  mend  it,  certainly." 

"  But  I  said  that  you  must  mend  it." 

151 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"  Indeed,  I  sha'n't  touch  your  old  coat ! 
And  if  you  speak  to  me  in  that  way,  I  shall 
not  help  you  with  your  farm- work  any 
more !" 

"That  settles  it.  I  give  up  decision  of 
character  for  the  time  being.  Besides,  if 
you  should  mend  my  old  coat,  I  should  be 
transformed  in  it.  I  should  be  a  king  in 
disguise.  If  ever  I  won  any  success,  I  should 
wear  it  for  the  occasion;  if  I  finished  my 
course  like  a  good  knight,  I  would  ask  to  be 
laid  out  in  it." 

Daniel  had  set  down  the  pail  and  stood, 
leaning  against  Billy's  stall,  pale  and  tall, 
regarding  Eleanor  with  his  black  eyes,  that 
were  both  fearless  and  unspeakably  tender. 

Eleanor  thought  his  pose  majestic,  and — 
tender-hearted — her  lip  trembled  with  the 
pity  of  it  —  that  he  should  not  have  been 
born  in  an  appropriate  class.  "  I  am  sure 
you  will  succeed,"  she  said,  earnestly. 

Daniel's  eyes  smiled  at  her.  "  By  sharp- 
ness or  gentleness  ?" 

"Billy  is  hungry.  It  is  interesting  in  a 
woman  to  be  sharp,  but  not  in  a  man." 

"  I  will  feed  Billy ;  and  I  shall  try  to 
prove  interesting,  too.  Don't  forget  it !" 

152 


CHAPTER  XX 

ELEANOK  had  a  way  of  her  own  to  the 
shoemaker's  shanty.  She  had  read  in  books 
of  people  living  as  Shoemaker  Prophett  and 
his  wife  lived,  and  the  picturesque  realism 
of  the  state  captured  her. 

"  There's  an  unusual  storm  coming.  Don't 
take  one  of  your  long  walks  to-day,  Miss 
Arundell,"  said  Dan. 

"  Yery  well,"  said  Eleanor,  smiling  gra- 
ciously, and  took  her  long  walk  quite  as 
usual. 

"  Lord  sakes,  dearie,"  said  Mrs.  Prophett, 
"  do  the  folks  know  ye've  come  this  gait 
ahead  o'  the  snow-storm  ?" 

"  I  do  not  have  to  account  for  my  actions 
to  any  one,"  said  Eleanor,  sweetly,  laying 
aside  her  cloak  and  taking  her  accustomed 
seat  by  the  fire. 

"Ain't  she  han'som'!"  said  wizened  old 
Mrs.  Prophett,  openly,  to  her  wizened  old 
husband. 

153 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"  Tur'ble !  —  but  beauty  fades,"  said  Sa- 
lodius  Prophett,  who  was  professedly  a  pes- 
simist. 

Eleanor  had  something  on  her  mind,  and 
was  not  to  be  diverted  from  it : 

"Forty  years,  you  say,  you  have  been 
working  at  shoemaking,  Salodius — ever  since 
the  tree  fell  on  you  and  twisted  you  ?" 

"  If  I'd  been  a  lucky  man,  I'd  'a'  got  shut 
o'  all  this  world's  trouble  then  —  but  no,  I 
had  to  get  twisted." 

"  Don't  mind  him,  dearie :  he's  stiddy  as 
stiddy,  and  a  kind  heart  to  him." 

"  Yes,  if  I  didn't  have  a  heart  I  couldn't 
suffer,  ye  see.  And  as  for  stiddy,  I  don't 
love  the  stuff  —  never  did.  'Twould  have 
proved  something  of  a  consolation  if  I'd 
loved  that,  ye  see :  so — no,  I  was  made  with 
no  taste  for  it." 

"  Don't  mind  him,  dearie.  He's  worked 
patient  all  the  days  long,  and  sometimes 
into  the  night." 

"  Oh,  shoe-mendin'  ain't  work  so  much  as 
it  is  philosophy ;  footwear  's  a  philosophy. 
Look  at  Deacon  Snell's  boots  I'm  mendin' 
here — look  at  them  excrescences  his  bunions 
has  punched  in  'era !  There's  sufferin'  for 
154 


ye !  Look  at  little  Jud  Hopkins's  shoes, 
over  there ;  the  sole  o'  one  has  to  be  made 
three  inches  thick,  so't  he  can  stub  along 
even  over  this  vale  o'  woe.  We're  called  to 
run  a  race  in  this  world,  and  into  it  we  come, 
corns,  bunions,  uneven  legs,  twisted  spines. 
Look  at  the  whole  lot  over  there,  gaspin' 
with  some  sorrer  or  other.  Look  at  'em !" 

"  And  you  have  worked  all  these  years," 
said  Eleanor,  "  to  keep  your  wife  and  your- 
self from  being  sent  to  the  poorhouse,  and 
to  save  enough  for  ill  or  helpless  days,  and — 
you  told  me — for  burial  ?" 

"  And  hain't  done  it !  Sickness  enough, 
but  not  our  last,  and  the  rent  o'  the  hut,  and 
vittles  to  eat !" 

"  "Well,"  declared  the  moral  imbecile,  "  I 
have  quite  a  bit  of  money  put  for  me  already 
in  this  bank  and  that  bank,  besides  a  rich 
family-  to  leave  me  much  more." 

"  Your  shoes  are  stanch  and  han'som', 
sure  enough,  miss.  May  the  corns  of  sorrer 
and  the  tags  o'  poverty  never  touch  'em !" 

Eleanor  gave  a  subdued  melodious  laugh, 
but  her  eyes  were  fixed  on  Salodius  with  a 
very  wide  earnestness. 

"  And  before  I  came  down  here  to-day,  I 

155 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

made  out  this  check,"  she  went  on,  "  and 
you  have  got  to  take  it.  It  is  only  a  little 
of  what  I  have,  and  it  is  the  sum  you  said 
would  save  your  wife  and  you  from  the 
things  you  dread.  I  am  of  age  to  do  what 
I  like  with  my  own.  And  that  paper  will 
be  just  as  good  as  gold  to  you  at  the  bank 
in  your  nearest  town." 

"  I  know  that."  Salodius  looked  at  the 
paper  in  blank  amaze,  but  shook  his  head. 
"  May  the  corns  of  sorrer  and  the  tags  o' 
poverty  never  touch  ye,"  he  repeated,  "  but 
'twon't  do !  There'd  be  trouble.  'Tain't  the 
way  o'  the  world." 

"  It  is  my  way,  in  this  case,"  said  Miss 
Arundell,  "  and  there  is  never  any  trouble 
if  I  am  let  to  have  my  own  way,  Salodius ; 
otherwise,  there'll  be  great  mountains  of 
trouble.  Put  it  away — it's  got  to  be.  Now 
for  the  book!  Mrs.  Prophett  to  read,  and 
you  to  expound,  as  usual." 

"  'Twon't  do !" 

"  Isn't  it  remarkable  that  Mrs.  Prophett 
can  read  so  beautifully,  but  does  not  know 
the  meaning  of  it,  and  you  cannot  read,  but 
can  explain  it  all  so  wonderfully !  I  love  to 
hear  you.  The  book !" 

156 


THE    MORAL  IMBECILES 

"  May  the  corns  of  sorrer  never — " 

"  Put  it  away,  Salodius.    The  book !" 

Mrs.  Prophett,  with  trembling  excess  of 
joy,  proceeded  eagerly  to  execute  the  young 
lady's  wishes :  the  slow  tears  ran  down  the 
cheeks  of  Salodius. 

"  Begin  where  I  left  off  ?"  said  Mrs.  Pro- 
phett. 

"  Certain,  certain.  Where  else  ?"  said  Salo- 
dius. 

" '  She  shall  not  see  me.  I  will  en-en-en- 
sconce me  behind  the  ar-ar-arras.' ': 

Mrs.  Prophett  paused  listening  for  eluci- 
dation. 

"  Ahem  !  Ensconce  —  old  d'rivitive  —  be- 
come by  vulgar  parlice  ensquat — fin'lly  con- 
tracted inter  squat  —  plain  squat.  I  will 
squat  me.  There  ye  got  the  whole  sense  of 
of  it." 

Mrs.  Prophett  gazed,  stupefied  at  the 
learning  of  her  lord,  who  continued  : 

"  '  Behind  the  arras ' — simply  any  airy  por- 
tion o'  the  room — near  the  winder." 

Salodius  was  grave  and  dauntless,  Mrs. 
Prophett  simply  edified ;  the  moral  imbe- 
cile's expression  was  that  of  one  who  is  par- 
ticipating frankly  at  a  feast. 

157 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"  Lord  !"  said  Mrs.  Prophett,  at  last,  look- 
ing up  from  these  digested  pearls  of  the  Bard 
of  Avon — "  how  it  snows !  and  the  wind  !" 

"  Yes,  and  will  be  dark,"  said  Eleanor.  "  I 
must  be  going." 

"  'Deed  ye  mustn't !  Yesha'n't!  I'll  make 
ye  comfortable  here.  They'll  come  for  ye." 

Eleanor  laughed.  "  I  love  the  snow.  I 
love  the  wind.  I  would  not  miss  my  sport 
with  them  for  any  money  !  Good-bye  !" 

"  If  I  wasn't  a  cripple  !"  groaned  Salodius  : 
the  old  woman  clung  nervously  to  her  cloak. 
But  Eleanor  went  out  with  the  vigorous 
boyish  stride  to  which  she  had  accustomed 
her  long  limbs  amid  these  wintry  scenes,  and 
stanchly  breasted  the  storm,  out  of  their 
sight.  In  another  ten  moments  she  would 
have  given  anything  could  she  have  retraced 
her  steps  even  to  that  poor  haven. 

The  darkness  descended  like  a  curtain 
promptly  dropped.  The  biting  wind  flung 
the  harsh  snow  persistently,  painfully, 
against  that  tender  face.  Eleanor  Arun- 
dell  had  never  been  so  treated.  Here  and 
there  was  only  a  dim  outline  of  the  drifted 
path,  and  soon  all  outline  ceased. 

"  I  am  getting  lost !"  she  gasped,  at  last ; 

158 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

and  none  the  less  the  sifting  snow  bit  and 
stung  her  face. 

"  But  I  must  keep  walking — keep  walking 
— or  I  shall  die.  They  always  keep  walk- 
ing." After  considerable  baffling  progress 
of  this  sort,  she  stumbled  against  a  bowlder, 
covered  her  aching  eyes  and  face  with  her 
cloak,  and  lay  there  in  the  dreadful  night 
and  loneliness,  sobbing  out  her  despair. 

"  Still,  I  must  try  to  keep  walking," 
she  moaned.  "  But  if  I  should  walk  over 
the  ledge."  And  then  agonizing  thoughts 
thronged  thick  upon  her — the  sumptuous  city 
home,  the  rich  young  life  of  health  and  joy — 
to  end  here !  She  heard  her  grandmother's 
eulogistic  sighs  over  her  foolhardiness ;  she 
heard  the  wailing  of  Joan  and  Mary  Ann : 
and,  in  that  desolation,  she  admitted  an  intu- 
ition, as  piercing  as  the  snow,  that  there  was 
one  who  would  mourn  for  her  more  than  all : 
one,  too,  so  powerful  to  help  ! 

She  scrambled  up  on  the  bowlder.  "  Dan ! 
Dan  !"  she  called,  with  her  back  to  the  wind 
and  stamping  her  numbed  feet.  Still  "  Dan ! 
Dan !"  she  called,  but  that  unutterably  piti- 
less night  gave  no  answer. 

Sinking,  and  again  desperately  struggling 
159 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

to  her  feet,  she  saw  the  tiniest  star  afar  off 
in  the  waste  of  snow,  a  star  of  the  earth  that 
swung  and  trembled.  With  a  last  effort  she 
plunged  towards  it,  stopping  now  and  then 
to  call  with  all  her  strength  "  Dan !  Dan  !" 
Suddenly  the  star  came  leaping  towards  her 
— it  grew  large  and  dazzled  her. 

When  Dan  saw  her  face,  all  sternness 
died  out  of  his  own,  and  Eleanor  Arundell 
flung  herself  on  his  broad  breast,  simply  as 
a  wrecked  mariner  touching  shore. 

"  Come,  dearest,  come !"  said  Dan,  with 
great  good  cheer,  for  her  sake — "  coine  !  we 
must  go  home !" 

"I'd  rather  stay  here  a  little,"  gasped 
Eleanor.  "I  am  so  tired  —  Daniel.  You 
won't  tell  Martha  ?" 

"Tell  her  what?" 

"  That  I  got  lost." 

"  Never !"  A  smile  quivered  under  Dan- 
iel's sleeted  and  frozen  mustache.  "  We  must 
walk.  We  must  go  home.  Hang  to  my  arm 
— so — I  can  half  carry  you.  Come !" 

Eleanor  struggled  on  bravely,  but  she  had 
been  already  nearly  exhausted. 

"  Daniel !"  she  moaned,  at  length,  sinking 
in  the  snow,  "  I  cannot !  You  must  go  on 
160 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

and  leave  me  —  and  —  come  back  for  me, 
when  I  am  rested — rested." 

Daniel  lifted  her  to  her  feet.  "Come!" 
he  cried  —  "a  little  farther!  Come  —  my 
darling !" 

Eleanor  did,  indeed,  call  up  her  last  rem- 
nant of  strength,  to  meet  the  drifts  and  the 
beating  wind,  and  sank  again,  this  time  with- 
out consciousness. 

Daniel,  who  had  measured  the  emergency 
and  his  own  ability  to  save  at  last,  fastened 
the  lantern  to  his  belt,  and  lifted  this  bur- 
den— and  it  was  no  small  or  light  one — in 
his  arms,  renewing  the  wild  struggle  home- 
ward. On  and  on,  till  his  straining  arms 
and  hands  grew  numb,  till  the  snow  seemed 
to  be  beating  in  fire  against  his  very  brain. 
Still  doggedly,  desperately,  persistently  on, 
till  the  home  door  was  reached,  and  opened 
by  eager  watchers,  and  he  staggered  in 
across  the  threshold. 

Daniel  Scheffer  never  fainted — was  hardly 
expected,  even  in  this  present  crisis,  to  be 
either  frozen  or  exhausted. 

He  ordered  what  they  were  to  do  with 
Eleanor,  in  a  voice  painfully  gruff.  "No 
wonder  " — they  thought — "  that  he  is  cross" 

L  161 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

After  a  bath  in  ice-cold  water,  this  son  of 
the  Northern  hills  dressed  himself  in  his 
melancholy  best,  set  his  teeth  at  the  pain 
tingling  in  his  members,  smiled  at  the  ice 
still  in  his  hair,  and  went  in  to  inquire  for 
his  lady  love. 

Her  eyes  were  wide  open,  and  the  minis- 
tering Joan  had  clothed  both  her  wayward 
act  and  her  beautiful  person  in  garments  of 
saintly  white;  scarcely  whiter,  however, 
than  her  face.  She  held  out  her  hand  to 
Daniel,  with  a  smile. 

"When  I  have  my  own  establishment, 
Daniel,"  she  murmured,  kindly,  "you  shall 
always  have  some  place  in  it." 

"Yes,"  said  Daniel,  with  benign  assur- 
ance, "  I  know  that." 


CHAPTER  XXI 

I  HAD  requested  that  Forrester  should  an- 
swer his  grandaunt  Augusta's  letter  to  her 
in  person,  but  he  appealed  solely  to  the 
amanuensis. 

"When"  [he  wrote]  "I  saw  the  beginning  of  that 
letter,  'My  dearly  beloved  Forrester,'  in  your  hand- 
writing, I  jumped  up  into  heven,  Martha — and  that  is 
straight.  I  know  it  is  not  fair  to  call  those  your  words; 
but,  fact  is,  I  cannot  possebly  think  of  them  as  anybody 
else's  words. 

"  I  guess  you  laughed  when  you  were  reeling  off  that 
billycock  of  Aunt  'Gusta's.  Does  she  think  I'd  come 
mooning  around  to  live  on  her  in  her  old  cold  storage 
brass  chandelier  battery  ? 

"I'm  working  like  a  horse.  I'm  doing  prime.  And 
there's  talk,  Martha,  about  my  being  promoted,  pretty 
soon,  to  section  boss. 

"Give  my  love  to  Aunt  'Gusta,  and  thanks  for  her 
very  exceptable  letter.  She  said  I  was  a  lamb  wand- 
dering  on  the  thorny  mountains.  Tell  her  the  moun- 
tains are  not  thorny  ;  they're  only  rocky— and  I  don't 
mind  the  hardest  kind  of  a  scrabble  if  I  can  get  to  the 
one  I  love,  in  the  end. 

"  Yours  with  the  love  of  all  my  harte, 

"  FORRESTER." 
163 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

I  did  not  transport  this  letter,  neither  did 
I  read  it  aloud  to  any  one.  But,  the  very 
day  that  I  received  it,  Mrs.  John  Arundell 
appeared,  anxiously. 

She  was  in  a  Kussian  sleigh,  magnificently 
plumed,  and  sent  in  a  servant  with  the  sum- 
mons: "Mrs.  John  Arundell  requests  to 
know  if  Miss  Scheffer  will  kindly  ride  with 
her  in  the  park  ?" 

"  "What's  'Gusty  doin',  out  tobogannin'  to- 
day ?"  said  my  host,  at  the  window.  "  Good 
soul — eighty  years  old — thermometer  down 
to  zero  —  blue  nose  —  bunnit  on  her  ear. 
Why  didn't  she  come  in  her  carriage  ?  Why 
don't  she  come  in  and  thaw  out  ?  What  the 
devil's  up  ?" 

"Oh,  she  is  merely  toughening  herself, 
you  know,"  replied  Madam  Arundell,' 
smoothly.  "  I  presume  the  temperature  out- 
side, to-day,  is  not  excessively  lower  than 
that  she  enjoys  at  home." 

"  He !  he !  Laura.  You  can  bite,  and  smile 
like  an  angel.  You  don't  like  it  because 
she's  come  to  take  Martha." 

"  Certainly,  I  was  expecting  to  take  Miss 
Scheffer  to  drive,  myself,  in  a  suitable  man- 
ner. I  do  not  know  how  it  is  with  Miss 
164 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

Scheffer,  but  I  do  not.  myself,  care  for  coast- 
ing through  our  crowded  and  public  high- 
ways." 

"  He !  he !  Put  your  feet  up,  Martha,  and 
cock  your  beaver." 

"What  news,  my  child?"  said  Mrs.  John 
Arundell,  fixing  her  kind  eyes  upon  me. 
The  robes  that  surrounded  and  covered  us 
were  in  themselves  a  revelation  of  satiating 
wealth.  A  complex  Russian  in  boots  guard- 
ed us  in  the  rear. 

"  Did  you  not  think  your  nephew  would 
address  you  personally  ?"  I  asked. 

"No,"  said  she — and  I  loved  her  for  the 
simple  good-heartedness  in  her  averted  face. 
"  You  see,  he  has  become  so  accustomed  to 
addressing  you." 

One  of  the  blushes  that  came  so  fatally 
since  I  had  realized  my  own  guilt  over- 
spread my  face. 

"  Dear  Miss  Scheffer,  is  my  bonnet  on 
straight  ?"  murmured  this  noble  soul.  "  It 
feels — perhaps  I  am  mistaken ;  it  is  so  em- 
barrassing to  have  one's  bonnet  awry.  Ah 
— thank  you !  You  are  flushed  with  the  ex- 
ertion of  leaning  over.  This  direct  contact 
with  the  bracing  air  will  do  you  good.  I 
165 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

wonder  that  Laura  never  exposes  herself  to 
its  exhilarating  influence.  They  have  very 
handsome  sleighs.  Precious  Eleanor  uses 
them  when  she  is  at  home.  Why  does  she 
not  return  to  her  natural  guardians  ?" 

"  She  is  fascinated  with  the  scenery  and 
the  exercises  at  Haskell." 

"  She  should  not  be  allowed  to  have  every- 
thing she  is  merely  fascinated  with." 

"  There  are  physical  conditions  in  her  case, 
I  understand,  which  make  it  necessary  she 
should  have  what  she  wishes." 

"  I  fear,  dear  Miss  Scheffer — I  speak  to 
you  with  the  utmost  confidence — I  fear  Dr. 
Clitus  Latimer  is  a  fraud.  He  encourages 
my  poor  sister  in  every  natural  weakness  of 
the  flesh.  Precious  Eleanor  he  cannot  spoil ; 
but  I  see  traces  of  wilfulness  even  in  her." 

I  was  silent. 

"  But  what  from  dear  Forrester?"  she 
added. 

"  He  sends  many  thanks  to  you  for  your 
letter.  But  he  seems  very  much  immersed 
in  the  active  struggle  he  has  taken  up.  He 
speaks  of  probable  advancement.  He  seems 
disinclined,  in  fact,  to — well — to  sit  down  in 
any  one's  lap." 

166 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"My  dear,  I  could  not  hold  Forrester! 
It  is  a  singular  fact  that  the  Arunclells  have 
had,  at  regular  intervals,  a  giant  in  the  fami- 
ly. I,  too,  had  in  mind  pursuits  of  an  active 
nature  for  him.  Even  of  a  philanthropic 
— even,  dear,  of  a  religious  nature.  I  have 
now  at  my  home  5000  leaflets,  received  this 
morning  from  my  printer ;  a  little  effort  of 
my  own"  —  she  blushed  —  "on  substituting 
free  righteousness  for  the  thraldom  of  in- 
temperance. Think  how  my  grandnephew, 
if  he  were  so  minded,  could  aid  me  in  dis- 
seminating these  works !" 

"  Yes,  but  is  it  not  true  that  there  must  be 
adaptability  in  all  employments  ?" 

"  Ah,  there  my  heart  bleeds  for  him ! 
Why  should  not  my  grandnephew  rise  to 
such  an  enterprise  as  this  2" 

Beeman  Price  was  out  with  a  cutter,  him- 
self driving,  one  man-servant  at  his  side. 

As  we  first  met,  he  lifted  his  hat.  The 
air  had  sting  enough  to  make  even  his  tough 
skin  glow.  He  was  not  an  ill-looking  man, 
except  for  his  greedy  and  compressed  air  of 
the  world. 

But  Mrs.  Arundell  sighed.  "  Think  of 
Forrester  becoming  a  cold,  self-absorbed 

167 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

worshipper  of  Mammon,  like  that  1"  she 
said. 

"  He  could  not !"  I  cried,  unguardedly. 
"It  is  not  in  his  nature!  Whatever  the 
poor  boy's  failings,  he  is  noble,  impulsively 
compassionate,  unselfish !" 

Good  Mrs.  Arundell,  to  my  astonishment, 
preened  herself,  uttered  a  gratified  "  click, 
click !"  in  her  throat.  And  her  face  of  ele- 
vated emotion  was  suddenly  metamorphosed 
into  the  most  simple  and  natural  smile. 

"  Is  my  bonnet  ?  —  ah,  thank  you !  dear. 
Yes,  yes,  I  think  dear  Forrester  has  the 
germs  of  grace." 

Again  we  met  Beeman  Price — whose  trot- 
ter was  swift  —  making  the  rounds  of  the 
park.  And  I  regret  to  say  that  something 
in  the  exuberance  of  the  air,  as  well,  per- 
haps, as  a  deficiency  in  breeding,  caused  him 
to  wink  at  us,  this  time,  distinctly,  innocent- 
ly, and  alarmingly. 

"  "We  shall  continue,"  said  Mrs.  John  Arun- 
dell, "as  we  go  round  and  round,  to  meet 
that  distressing  individual." 

"  Certainly,"  said  I,  laughing ;  "  but,  after 
all,  he  is  only  a  fellow  human  being,  and 
will  do  us  no  harm." 

168 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"  You  are  aware,  dear  Miss  Scheffer,  of  a 
promise  you  made  me  the  other  day  ?" 

"  I  am  vividly  conscious  of  it,  and  I  am 
one,  you  know,  who  holds  to  her  promises." 

"  Very  good.  Certainly."  She  uttered  the 
"click,  click!"  in  her  throat  again,  but  ad- 
dressed the  driver,  '•'•Turn  the  horses,  James, 
and  thus  reverse  our  course." 

But  she  had  not  calculated  on  the  remark- 
able advantage  in  diplomacy  of  that  light- 
geared  trotter  over  her  own  elephantine 
bays.  Plumes,  robes,  silver-bells,  and  all  oth- 
er paraphernalia,  we  soon  came  face  to  face 
again  with  Beeman  Price.  His  wink,  this 
time,  had  even  a  merry  significance. 

"If  you  feel  sufficiently  invigorated,  my 
dear,  perhaps  it  will  be  as  well  for  us  to 
return  before  we  become  wearied,  and  thus 
undo  the  benefit  this  elastic  atmosphere  has 
given  us." 

"  I  think  that  altogether  the  wiser  course," 
I  replied,  and  returned  the  clasp  of  her  cling- 
ing frank  old  hand  with  genuine  admiration, 
as  she  left  me  at  the  Forrester  Arundell 
mansion. 

Beeman  Price  called  that  evening ;  and 
my  hostess  desiring,  as  the  next  best  thing, 
169 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

that  I  should  pocket  the  goods  which  had 
not  accrued  to  her  own  family,  adroitly  ar- 
ranged in  her  own  masterly  fashion  that  I 
should  be  in  the  reception-room  with  him 
alone. 

"  You  and  the  old  girl  had  quite  a  tricky 
time  out  there  in  the  park  to-day,"  said  he, 
with  exuberant  joviality,  for  him. 

I  felt  my  lips  tremble,  but,  "  frankly,"  I 
said,  "  I  do  not  like  to  hear  you  speak  of 
Mrs.  John  Arundell  in  that  way.  I  esteem 
her  too  highly." 

"  '  Highly,'  I  should  think !  She's  enough 
to  break  up  a  funeral  with  her  lectures  and 
her  leaflets — and  you  know  it." 

"  There's  a  vast  deal  behind  that,  which 
we  do  not  see  at  first,  and  I  admire  her." 

"Egad!  You  gettin'  befuddled?  Better 
look  sharp.  My  proposition  stands  just  the 
same." 

"  Ah !" 

"  Just  the  same.     Keady  to  consider  it  ?" 

"  You  wish,  I  understand,  to  bestow  all — 
qtt  your  worldly  goods  on  me,  without  re- 
serve." 

"  No,  hang  it !  No  such  nonsense !  But 
tell  37e  what  I  will  do,  I'll  give  ye  three 

170 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

thousand  a  year,  outside  household  expenses. 
Eh?" 

"  It  is  no  inducement.  It  would  have  to 
be  all  or  nothing." 

"  Jump  too  far,  ye  know,  and  ye'll  land  in 
the  ditch  on  the  other  side." 

"  I  perfectly  realize  that." 

"  Can't  ye  be  sensible  ?  Gad,  I  took  to  ye 
'cause  I  thought  ye  was  keen,  and  ye're  more 
finiky  than  a  mouse,  and  a  worse  flirt'n  that 
girl  Eleanor !" 

"  A  woman  is  but  a  woman,  you  see." 

"  But  you're  actin'  the  fool  on  purpose — 
ye  wa'n't  born  so." 

"  It  is  all  the  more  hopeless  if  it  is  a  mat- 
ter of  principle." 

Shuffling  steps  were  heard  wandering  here 
and  there,  then  dawned  on  us  with  a 
"Where's  Martha?  You  here,  Price  ?  Glad 
to  see  ye — how  d'do  ?  Courtin'  Martha,  eh  ? 
He!  he!  I  ain't  scared — not  a  bit  scared. 
Lots  o'  tunes  to  Martha." 

But  he  sat  down  before  us,  in  all  the  elegance 
of  his  feeble  old  dandihood,  trembling  visibly. 

"  If  it  annoys  him  thus,"  I  murmured  to 
my  scornful  suitor,  "  perhaps  you  had  better 
not  call.     My  first  duty  is  to — them." 
171 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"  Have  you  got  to  be  a  fool  because  the 
rest  of  'em  are?"  returned  Beeman  Price, 
plainly. 

"  Yes,  that  is  my  present  profession — and, 
in  fact,  my  desire." 

"  Ketchin',  eh  ?  Well,  I'll  get  out.  If  you 
ever  come  back  to  your  senses — where  ye 
was  once — let  me  know." 


CHAPTER   XXII 

OXE  quiet  morning  soon  after  this,  "Wat- 
son, breathless,  overtook  me  in  the  hall. 

"  I  have  just  gleaned  this,  mum,  from  a 
scrap  cook  had  laid  over  her  tins,  mum.  My 
eyes  fell  on  it  by  chance.  The  paper  is 
three  days  old,  mum.  God  'a'  mercy,  mum! 
Go  and  find  him,  mum.  For  God's  sake,  go 
at  once,  mum !"  Tears  were  flowing  down 
the  old  servitor's  cheeks. 

"  Heroic  act !"  I  read,  in  a  short  para- 
graph in  the  corner  of  that  ill-used  scrap. 
"Forrester  Pardell,  a  street -car  conductor 

at jumped  and  saved  the  life  of  a  child 

who  ran  suddenly  in  front  of  the  car.  The 
motorman  could  not  apply  the  brakes  in 
time.  The  brave  fellow  threw  the  child  from 
danger,  but  was  himself  seriously,  perhaps 
fatally,  injured.  "Was  taken  at  once  to  the 
hospital." 

"  But  this  is  Forrester  Pardell"  I  said. 

"Oh,  mum.  that's  a  ty-pog-ra-phal  error — 

173 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

'tis  he !  Oh,  mum,  you  know  it,  mum !  Oh, 
don't  you  turn  white  and  fall,  for  God's  sake, 
mum !  You  are  the  brace  of  the  family. 
Oh,  think  of  Mm,  mum  !" 

I  was  as  sure  as  Watson  that  it  was  in- 
deed he,  and,  as  the  "  brace  of  the  family," 
I  pulled  myself  sharply  together. 

"  Order  the  carriage  for  the  first  express, 
"Watson.  I  will  get  ready."  This  I  did, 
wisely,  first  of  all.  Then  I  went  to  Madam 
Arundell. 

"  Your  grandson  has  been  hurt  in  an  act 
of  self-sacrifice  connected  with  his  duty.  I 
do  not  know  how  badly.  I  do  not  know 
even 1  am  going !" 

She  turned  very  white  and  set  her  lips, 
but  she  did  not  have  an  "  attack,"  and  I 
had  felt  that  she  would  not. 

"  I  knew  how  it  would  be !"  said  she,  with 
an  open  bitterness  that  was  sealed  like  a 
pent  lake  in  my  own  breast. 

"If  ever  I  can  bring  him  home  to  you, 
everything  will  be  at  its  brightest?" — I 
felt  my  heart  and  my  voice  breaking,  and 
stopped. 

"  I  will  exert  myself,"  said  she,  taking  quick, 
ambitious  steps  about  the  room  as  a  mental 

174 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

relief.  "  Yes,  yes,  I  will  try  to  bear  bravely 
my  own  duties  and  yours,  too,  till  you  re- 
turn— you  return — " 

I  flew  along  the  hall  to  my  host's  private 
sitting-room.  He  was  not  asleep,  but  sitting, 
with  an  expression  of  singular  sweetness  and 
patience  on  his  face.  I  did  not  speak  to  him 
of  any  hurt  or  tragedy,  but  stooped,  taking 
both  his  hands  in  mine.  "Forrester  has 
been  away  a  long  time,"  I  said.  "  I  am  going 
to  try  to  find  him." 

"  That's  right,  Martha— that's  right,"  he 
cried,  fluttering,  gladly.  "  I  knew  you'd  go 
and  get  him  when  the  right  time  came. 
Knew  it !  Yes.  How  soon  ?  This  evening, 
perhaps  ?  To  -  morrow  ?  Leave  everything 
with  you,  Martha.  Tell  him  he  shall  have 
any  horse  he  wants,  no  matter  what  price. 
Tell  him  he  shall  have  his  own  rooms  and 
valet.  Tell  him—" 

I  sped  down  to  the  waiting  carriage,  and, 
having  still  time,  I  stopped  a  moment  at 
Mrs.  John  Arundell's.  She  heard  my  news 
without  a  word,  but  as  I  was  turning  away, 
she  caught  me,  and,  looking  at  me  solemnly 
and  tenderly,  gave  me  one  kiss,  unlike  her 
usual  flowery  embraces.  Her  lips  quivered. 

175 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

I  tore  myself  from  her  with  a  miserable  sob, 
and  was  away  again. 

Never  fast  enough,  though  the  progress 
of  the  train  seemed  like  the  prolonged,  tire- 
less flight  of  a  bird  through  the  air.  At  an- 
other time  I  should  have  smiled  to  think  how 
naturally  and  unhesitatingly  I  had  purchased 
my  seat  in  a  drawing-room  car;  but  now, 
with  this  enforced  repose,  I  wished  rather 
that  it  had  been  an  instrument  of  torture. 

"  It  was  you"  said  my  heart,  over  and 
over,  "who  advised  him  to  work,  to  main- 
tain his  independence,  to  endure  hardship; 
and  afterwards  the  encouragement  or  ap- 
proval you  meted  out  to  him  were  as  scarce 
and  cold  as  though  they  were  diamonds  sole- 
ly for  your  own  hoarding. 

"  And  if  your  Spartan  method  of  friendly 
discipline  should  meet  now  only  a  dying  or 
a  silent  form !" 

I  set  my  face  and  my  heart,  and  in  me 
there  was  no  forgiveness  either  for  myself 
or  this  possible  fate. 

The  cabmen  assailed  me  at  the  familiar 
town. 

"  How  soon  can  you  get  me  to  the  hos- 
pital?" 

176 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"  Twenty  minutes."  "  Fifteen."  "  Ten," 
said  one.  I  was  in  the  cab,  the  spiritless 
horses  whipped  into  an  ostentatious  but  con- 
strained gallop. 

I  knew  the  superintendent  of  the  hospital. 
His  conventional,  smiling  greeting  almost  en- 
raged me. 

"  Where  is  Forrester  Arundell  ?"  I  said. 

"Ah,  yes.  Number  sixteen.  Noble  fel- 
low that !  You  come  from  his  friends  ?" 

"  Yes ;  take  me  to  him." 

"  "Well,"  the  superintendent  sighed,  "  he 
has  been  unconscious  most  of  the  time  for 
the  past  two  days.  But  he  may  —  he 
may — " 

In  answer  to  my  look,  he  rang  the  elec- 
tric bell  at  his  side,  and  a  matron  ap- 
peared. 

"  Yes,  you  can  see  him,"  said  she.  "  No 
harm  in  that." 

She  turned  to  me  suddenly.  "  Is  your 
name  Martha  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  I'm  glad  you've  come,  then.  It  '11  com- 
fort him,  if  he  ever  senses  things  again.  He 
couldn't  or  he  wouldn't  give  us  any  address 
to  write  to ;  but  before  he  went  off  into  this 
M  177 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

state,  he  gave  that  name  '  Martha '  a  pretty 
dance,  I  can  tell  you !" 

I  crept  like  one  in  a  dream  up  to  that  bed- 
side— that  bare  hospital  bedside — the  low, 
disordered,  seemingly  comfortless  bed. 

The  matron  lingered  a  little,  curiously ; 
now  and  then  a  nurse  came  in  and  lingered, 
curiously ;  but  if  they  asked  me  questions,  I 
hardly  answered  them,  or  was  conscious  of 
their  presence. 

I  lifted  the  matted  hair  from  the  sunken, 
pallid  forehead.  :  The  right  arm  was  in 
splints.  I  took  the  other  bloodless  hand 
and  held  it  in  both  mine. 

Mine  were  tingling  exultantly  to  find  even 
so  much  life  here  on  the  hospital  cot.  As  I 
held  the  hand,  I  knew  that  soon  the  heavy 
lids  would  open  and  the  eyes  would  look  at 
me,  and  they  did  so.  I  knew  the  expres- 
sion that  would  be  in  them,  and  it  was  there ; 
but,  as  they  looked  thus  a  moment,  wide 
and  steadily,  a  hungry  sorrow  began  to  creep 
over  them,  the  poor  face  to  twitch.  And, 
at  that,  I  sat  down  beside  his  pillow  and 
took  his  head  on  my  breast,  and  my  face  I 
laid  against  his. 

The  blood  of  life  came  into  his  cheeks. 

178 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

Thus  he  lay  with  closed  eyes  a  few  moments, 
and  when  I  put  him  back  he  slept. 

"  He  is  sleeping  now — he  is  not  dead,"  I 
said,  with  impressive  consequence,  and  be- 
gan to  bustle  about  and  give  orders  in  my 
own  insufferable  way. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

THESE  directions  were  unhesitatingly  obey- 
ed, though  I  heard  myself,  once,  designated, 
in  a  whispered  conversation  among  the 
nurses,  as  "  Spitfire,"  which  did  not  amaze 
me ;  and  again,  as  "  made  of  money,"  which 
was  an  astounding  revelation. 

I  was  allowed  as  an  established  fact  every- 
where, and  way  was  made  for  me.  The  doc- 
tors became  sedulously  attentive  to  my  pa- 
tient; his  wounds  were  freshly  dressed;  he 
was  carried  by  a  brace  of  heedful  arms  to  a 
clean  bed  in  a  private  apartment;  a  fire 
sprang  to  glowing  life  in  the  grate.  Instead 
of  the  old  gray  shawl  that  had  swathed  his 
shoulders,  he  lay  majestic,  in  the  choicest 
dressing  -  gown  the  chief  dry  -  goods  empo- 
rium of  the  town  afforded. 

A  boy  was  sent  a  tramp  country  ward  for 
real  milk  from  a  cow,  not  to  be  accepted 
except  under  witness  of  the  fact. 

At  this  sarcasm,  encouraging  smiles  dawn- 

180 


ed  about  me,  but  I  snapped  on,  disregard- 
ing. 

Beef  juice  I  extracted  with  my  own  hands 
in  the  kitchen,  and  returned  with  it,  trium- 
phant, to  recline  in  a  luxurious  chair  before 
the  fire,  waiting  another  waking  from  the 
couch. 

I  was  perfectly  conscious  when  this  came, 
though  I  paid  no  immediate  heed  to  it,  giving 
the  roused  one  merely  a  quiet  side  face,  as 
though  I  had  been  sitting  there  from  time 
immemorial.  I  knew  the  excited  joy,  the 
glorified  speculation  in  those  blue  eyes.  I 
waited  for  the  long,  satisfied  sigh,  and  the 
feeble  voice : 

"  "Well,  we've  got  home  at  last,  haven't 
we,  Martha  ?" 

I  went  to  the  bed  with  my  offering  of  con- 
centrated nourishment,  and  demurely  fed 
him,  a  spoonful  at  a  time.  This  finished,  he 
looked  childishly,  eloquently,  at  the  cup. 

"  Our  family's  rich,  you  know,  Martha," 
said  he,  as  a  telling  and  general  suggestion. 

"  Still,  I  am  the  '  boss,'  you  know,"  I  re- 
plied, employing  his  own  illustrative  manner 
of  speech,  and  putting  the  empty  cup  out  of 


sight. 


181 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

He  gave  up  heedlessly  for  himself,  as  he 
always  gave  up,  and  showed  his  superb  teeth 
as  though  I  had  resuscitated  him  by  some 
moving  galaxy  of  wit. 

I  sat  down  by  the  fire  again ;  but  pres- 
ently, being  aware,  though  he  lay  patient- 
ly still  and  made  no  sign,  that  his  aspect  was 
simply  that  of  a  forlorn,  heart-broken  baby, 
I  rolled  the  great  chair  over  to  the  bedside, 
and  still  giving  him  that  unenlightened  side 
face,  took  his  hand  in  mine. 

He  drew  in  a  whistle  through  his  teeth, 
in  a  feeble  imitation  of  the  old  manner. 

"  Martha,''  said  he,  "  I  always  felt  it,  being 
so  strapping  big  and  strong — and  so  many 
lame,  pitiful  ones  all  about." 

This  was  an  expression  of  contentment 
with  his  lot  if  he  should  be  maimed  and 
lame — which  he  was  not,  in  the  end.  But 
there  was  no  thought  for  the  hardness  of 
his  trial  or  the  cruel  blow  that  had  fallen 
on  him  in  his  path  of  duty. 

"  I  know  you,  Martha ;  you'll  love  me, 
just  the  same." 

"  More,"  I  commented,  with  entire  self- 
command  in  the  brown  hand  that  pressed 
his  a  trifle  more  warmly. 

182 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"That  was  my  mother's  ring  —  I  knew 
you  would  wear  it." 

"  It  was  a  mysterious  demand  of  your 
grandmother's;  she  threatened  heart  failure, 
otherwise.  The  —  well,  the  worldliest  peo- 
ple are  sometimes  the  most  superstitious. 
She  did  not  explain  to  me,  but  I  fancy  she 
thinks  I  am  expiating  thereby  some  possible 
twinges  of  her  own  conscience." 

If  my  manner  was  sarcastic,  Forrester  took 
only  the  tone. 

"  Your  voice  rests  me.  I'm  sleepy.  But 
first — Martha — you  know — we've  not  been 
married  yet." 

"  Go  to  sleep." 

"  But  we  shall  be  F 

I  arranged  his  pillows,  as  though  they 
were  the  perversity  preventing  his  slumbers. 

"When,  Martha?" 

Stooping  thus  over  his  tense,  white  face, 
I  had  a  singular  sensation  for  a  woman  who 
is  asked  to  plight  her  troth ;  it  was,  rather, 
as  though  I  had  been  the  mother  who  bore 
him. 

"  Martha— when  F 

"  Have  you  not  had  everything  your  own 
way,  dear  F  I  said,  dryly,  my  eyes  straight- 
183 


ly  on  a  level  with  his.  "  Against  my  reso- 
lution and  all  the  probabilities  of  life ;  and 
though  crushed  out  of  the  fight,  as  it  were, 
for  a  time — still,  have  you  failed  to  have 
your  own  way  ?" 

"  No,"  he  smiled. 

"  Then  go  to  sleep — Forrester." 

This  was  as  near  graciousness  as  I  could 
be  expected  to  approach ;  the  full  measure 
of  satisfaction  it  afforded  my  patient  startled 
me.  He  made  a  gesture  as  if  to  lift  both 
hands,  winced  with  pain,  but  resolutely  held 
up  high  the  one  available,  thin  and  blood- 
less as  it  was. 

"Father,"  he  said,  not  with  any  affec- 
tation of  prayer,  but  simply  as  though  he 
were  addressing  some  one  in  the  room  with 
an  earnestness  that  shook  him  —  "  Father, 
forgive  me  the  sins  that  sent  me  wandering ! 
— I  thank  Thee  for  my  happiness !" 

And  this  wild  boy  showed  not  the  least 
shame  for  the  great  tears  rolling  down  his 
cheeks. 

"  Martha,  you  are  not  afraid  of  my  going 
wrong  again  ?" 

"  Never !"  I  said,  rather  chokingly,  and 
with  a  willing  impulse  gathered  his  head 

'    184 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

close  to  my  heart  again,  watching  him  sink 
off  into  sleep. 

"Walking,  in  a  measure,  consciously,  and 
rather  painfully,  so  many  years,  in  the  way 
of  righteousness — there  was  something  in 
the  utter  and  trustful  consecration  of  this 
moral  imbecile  that  touched  me,  as  though 
the  Lord  of  Life  had  stood  in  the  room, 
smiling  sadly  for  my  unbelief. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

THEEE  are  some  people  who  work  with 
doubtful  results  and  venture  that  not  fully 
assayed  in  their  own  mind.  Not  so,  Daniel 
Scheffer. 

"When  his  various  screws  and  contraptions 
were  finally  resolved  into  the  right  shape, 
and,  above  all,  the  controlling  key  of  the 
mechanism  found  to  move  backward  and 
forward  with  the  running  ease' of  a  natural 
law,  then,  instead  of  losing  his  head,  Daniel 
smiled  for  his  past  heavy  vigils,  palpitated  a 
little  at  the  thought  of  being  anticipated  in 
the  very  simplicity  of  the  discovery,  and 
forthwith  set  about  making  the  results  his 
own. 

"  Do  you  suppose,  Mary  Ann," — said  Elea- 
nor, sitting  on  the  three-legged  stool  in  the 
barn  —  "  that  Mr.  Scheffer  is  engaged  and 
has  gone  off  to  see  his  fiancee  ?" 

Mary  Ann,  who  had  fought  with  a  tem- 
porary "hired  boy"  and  banished  him, 
186 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

milked  away  jubilantly,  but  hummed  with 
significance, 

"The  old  man  says  to  his  wife,  says  he" — 

"Mary  Ann!  answer  me! — when  I  ask 
you  a  question.  What  do  I  care  what  the 
old  man  said  to  his  wife  ?  I  help  you  about 
the  barn  work  because  it  is  interesting,  and 
I  choose  to  do  so ;  but  when  I  ask  you  a 
question  I  expect  an  immediate  answer." 

""Well,  then,  Miss  Eleanor,  them  that  fools 
with  a  blast  must  take  the  ixplosion.  'Tis 
no  'fancy'  he's  gone  of  for — 'tis  a  spray  /" 

"  A  spree !     I  do  not  believe  it." 

"  Oh,  but  I  know  them !  'Tis  born  in 
them  —  ivery  one  o'  them.  Some  must  be 
at  it  frequent,  and  some  takes  their  time; 
mind  that — some  takes  their  time !" 

"I  tell  you,  Mary  Ann,  I  do  not  believe 
Mr.  Scheffer  has  gone  on  a  spree  !" 

"  Ho,  hum  !  '  The  old  man  says — ' " 

"  I  forbid  you  to  tell  me  what  the  old 
man  says." 

"  Them  that  goes  afoot,  Miss  Eleanor,  sees 
more  snakes  than  them  that  rides  in  car- 
riages ;  they  gets  the  worl'ly  wisdom,  God 
help  them !  Hear  me  sayin',  'tis  common  to 

187 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

them  all.  Father  Donnelly  himself  would 
be  at  it  two  days  to  the  ivery  other  month, 
quiet  and  hairmless  in  his  room.  Mr. 
Dan'l  is  that  topmost  and  sojerly,  I  doubt, 
but  he  takes  them  only  one  to  the  }Tear.  But 
them  kind  has  it  hard.  Mind  what  I'm  say- 
in',  them  kind  has  it  hard.  I  wouldn't  won- 
der but  he'd  take  a  week  to  it — maybe  two." 

Eleanor  smiled  contemptuously.  She  had 
not  the  least  fear  that  Daniel  had  gone  off 
for  a  season  of  vinous  hilarity.  But  she 
did  feel  piqued  and  wounded. 

That  Daniel,  although  he  had  said  some 
tender  things  to  her,  in  the  snow-storm, 
should  not  feel  that  he  was  in  a  proper  posi- 
tion actually  to  propose  to  her — Katherine 
Arundell — was  becoming  and  natural ;  but 
that  he  should  leave  her  without  explana- 
tion, and  go  off  to  propose  to  some  other 
girl,  was  a  grave  and  haunting  woe. 

"  I  think  we  must  be  going  back  to  New 
York  very  soon,  Mary  Ann." 

"  Faith,  that  would  be  an  ill  trick  while 
the  master's  away." 

"  You  and  Joan  need  not  go  because  I 
do." 

"  You  know  very  well,  when  you  go,  the 

188 


whole  artillery  moves  after,  like  a  bob  to  a 
kite." 

"  Immediately,  though,  as  soon  as  Mr. 
Scheffer  returns,  I  intend  to  go  back." 

Mary  Ann  sighed. 

"  You  would  love  to  be  a  farmer's  wife, 
would  not  you,  Mary  Ann  ?" 

"'Tis  no  farmer's  wife  I'd  like  to  be  so 
much  as  the  farmer  himself !" 

"Well,  if  you  are  good  and  faithful,  and 
read  Aunt  Augusta's  leaflets,  sometime  we 
will  buy  you  a  little  place  like  this  to  have 
all  for  your  own." 

"  Miss  Eleanor,"  said  Mary  Ann,  with  an 
appreciation  not  to  be  subdued — "  you're  the 
divul !  And  she  belaborin'  all  the  rest  of  us 
with  her  sarmons  and  scraps,  and  takin'  you 
for  the  one  saint  in  the  family,  and  'tis  no 
saint  you  are,  Miss  Eleanor,  hivun  knows !" 

"  I  am  afraid,  Mary  Ann,"  laughed  Elea- 
nor, "  that  chopping  wood  with  you,  and 
pitching  'fodder,'  and  shelling  corn,  I  have 
allowed  you  to  become  very  familiar." 

"  'Tis  the  same  One  made  us  both !" 

"  That  is  true  :  that  is  very  true,  when  one 
comes  to  think  of  it,"  said  the  moral  imbe- 
cile, sadly. 

189 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

Eeminded  of  the  corn  -  sheller,  she  went 
over  to  it  as  an  interesting  pastime,  put 
one  yellow  ear  in  after  another,  and  turned 
the  crank. 

"  'Tis  not  ivery  machine  o'  that  size  could 
make  the  noise!"  commented  Mary  Ann, 
proudly.  "  I  should  think  'twas  five  o'clock, 
and  that  of  a  Saturday  night,  on  Broad- 
way !" 

The  big  door  slid  open  and  shut  again, 
and  the  merry  face  of  the  theological  stu- 
dent beamed  on  them : 

"I  knew  I  should  find  you  two  here! 
You  dismissed  the  boy  ?  —  well,  he  was  a 
shirk.  Can't  I  be  of  some  assistance  to 
you  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Eleanor,  agreeably  and  prompt- 
ly, "  you  can  cut  up  some  hay  and  feed  Bil- 
ly." And  being  large  in  administrative  abil- 
ity, she  stood  by  to  see  this  accomplished. 

"  Now,  what  ?" 

"Nothing,  that  would  please  Mary  Ann. 
She  does  not  like  to  be  interfered  with.  Sit 
down  here  and  talk.  Tell  me  the  news  from 
the  village." 

"  Well,  the  news  from  the  village  really 
emanated  from  this  quarter.  It  is  that  Dan- 

190 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

iel  Scheffer  has  finally  captured  the  bee  in 
his  bonnet,  and  is  bound  to  be  a  rich  man." 

They  were  separated  from  Mary  Ann,  be- 
hind the  partition  of  the  stables. 

"  Oh  !"  said  Eleanor,  with  flashing  eyes — 
"so  that  is  what  he  went  away  about !" 

"  Everybody  guesses  it.  Why,  did  he  not 
tell  you  ?" 

"  No !  He  has  no  authority  for  confiding 
his  aifairs  to  me !" 

"Now  don't  be  high  and  mighty,  Miss 
Arundell,"  said  the  gentle  little  fellow,  not 
looking  at  her,  but  beaming  straight  ahead 
into  Billy's  face. 

"  You  are  so  like  my  brother  Forrester," 
said  Eleanor,  melting  into  sudden  gracious- 
ness.  "  You  are  not  so  '  large ' " — she  was 
going  to  say,  but  continued  kindly — "  awk- 
ward as  that  dear  boy,  but  you  are  so  easy 
and  nice  to  talk  with.  Every  one  says  For- 
rester is  just  as  sympathetic  and  easy  as  a 
woman  to  talk  with." 

"  My  !"  said  the  youth.  "  And  if  one  can 
be  'easy'  and  unconventional  on  this  seat, 
it's  almost  a  test  case,  isn't  it  ?" 

Eleanor  wore  an  approving  smile.  "  Now, 
Mr.  Scheffer  is  not  easy  to  converse  with. 
191 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

He  is  a  very  estimable  man :  he  has  no  com- 
mon vices:  he  does  not  drink":  she  did 
not  speak  interrogatively,  but  she  paused 
there. 

"Daniel  drink!  Ha!  ha!  Well,  yes, 
sweet  cider  through  a  straw  now  and  then." 

"  But  he  is  not  easy  to  converse  with." 

"  If  it  has  been  hard  for  you  and  him  to 
talk,  then  you  have  done  your  duty  brave- 
ly ;  for  I've  a  notion  I've  usually  seen  you 
off  one  side  murmuring  away  together  like 
the  purling,  purling  brook  over  the  rubbly, 
rubbly  stones.  Ahem !" 

Eleanor  blushed  at  Billy,  and  the  student 
threw  another  bright  smile  at  him,  both  of 
which  he  received  contemplatively,  with  his 
mouth  full  of  substance. 

Meanwhile  Mary  Ann  had  stamped  in  at 
the  kitchen  door  with  her  milk-pails. 

"  Where  is  my  affliction  ?"  said  Joan,  who, 
with  Mrs.  Scheffer  as  co-partner,  was  offici- 
ating at  the  housework. 

"  She's  a  settin'  with  the  little  Mithodist 
minister  on  the  idge  o'  the  horse-trough. 

"The  old  man  says  to  his  wife,  says  he." 

"  You  have  a   tune,  by  grasshus !"   said 
192 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

Joan,  with  anger  and  contempt,  and  started 
for  the  barn. 

"Suppaire!  Suppaire!"  she  yelled,  in 
startling  accents  at  the  door. 

"Come  in  and  have  tea  with  us,"  said 
Eleanor,  turning  her  blushing  face  from  Billy 
to  the  merry,  unobservant  smile  of  her  com- 
panion. "  "We  are  so  lonely.  Come !" 

"  Gladly !"  said  he,  following  her  rising 
movement  without  hesitation.  He  had,  on 
former  occasions,  tasted  the  viands  expressed 
from  the  great  metropolis  to  this  retreat, 
and  the  prowess  of  Joan  since  she  had  be- 
come cook.  "  I  shall  be  delighted.  Thank 
you !" 

Mary  Ann  saw  them  coming  in  together, 
and  took  pains  to  warble  her  particular  tenet 
of  philosophy  at  Joan  as  the  latter  passed  her. 

"  Shut  you  up  !"  demanded  Joan — "  of  the 
old  man,  the  old  woman,  and  the  whole 
family  ancient !" 

Mrs.  Scheffer,  Eleanor,  and  the  theologian, 
sat  down  together.  He  asked  grace  with  a 
face  just  as  cheerful  as  ever.  Mrs.  Scheffer 
approved  of  his  prospective  vocation,  but 
not  of  being  cheerful  when  one  is  asking 
grace.  She  maintained  a  very  circumspect 
N  193 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

attitude,  but  could  not  control  the  abound- 
ing merriment  at  her  own  board. 

Then  the  moral  imbecile  and  the  incipient 
divine  betook  themselves  to  the  cribbage- 
board. 

"  Come  again  to-morrow,"  said  the  former. 
"Do!  Bring  your. books  here  and  study. 
It  is  so  lonely." 

"Gladly!  Thank  you.  But,lonely?  Ahem! 
"Why,  what  makes  it  lonely  ?" 

Still,  he  did  not  look  at  her,  his  radiant 
countenance  surveying  the  board. 

"  It  is  always  lonely !"  said  Eleanor,  smart- 
ly, a  vivid  flame  in  her  cheeks,  and  biting 
her  lips. 

"Why,  a  little  while  ago  you  were  en- 
chanted with  it  and  did  not  wish  to  go 
away !" 

"  You  are  so  very  like  my  brother,"  sighed 
Eleanor — "so  perfectly  simple  about  things." 

"  Then  you  might  have  me  for  a  brother, 
too.  I'm  willing.  It's  only  now  and  then 
you  find  a  real  simple  person,  most  of  us  are 
so  tiresome  and  inquisitive." 

"  I  know  it !"  said  Eleanor,  gratefully. 
"  And  I  will  take  you  for  another  brother." 

The  hand  of  the  clock  stood  at  "ten." 

194 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"Won't  you  have  a  drink  of  cider  before 
you  go  ?"  said  Mrs.  Scheffer,  suggestively, 
and  with  old-fashioned  hospitality,  looking 
up  from  her  knitting  at  the  far  end  of  the 
room. 

"  Gladly — thank  you.  Yes,"  said  this  new- 
ly adopted  brother,  courteously  rising  at  once. 

Joan  lighted  the  way  with  a  tallow-can- 
dle. There  were  clefts  in  the  loose  forma- 
tion of  the  cellar-wall.  In  one  cranny  was 
Eleanor's  straw ;  in  one,  Daniel's ;  in  anoth- 
er, Joan's,  and  in  a  particularly  deep  nook 
lay  Mary  Ann's.  More  prominent  was  a 
fresh  pile  for  chance  guests.  The  student, 
schooled  to  the  conventionalities  of  country 
life,  at  once  selected  one  of  these.  Joan 
probed  for  hers. 

Eleanor  hesitated  a  moment.  There  was 
Daniel's  straw — and  no  one  would  notice. 
Daniel  was  not  gone  on  a  spree,  nor  to  pro- 
pose to  another  girl.  If  she  had  done  him 
any  injustice  in  her  thought,  it  would  be  but 
a  beautifully  contrite  act  to  flatter  him  by 
using  his  straw.  So  she  fluttered  a  bit  of 
precious  lace  over  it,  and  proceeded. 

There  were  four  barrels,  all  of  the  same 
recent  vintage,  in  a  row.  The  candle  disclosed 
195 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

a  blush  of  mysterious  mildness  and  beauty 
on  Miss  Arunclell's  face. 

"  I've  a  new  sister,  Joan,"  said  the  theo- 
logian; "isn't  she  looking  well?" 

"  Go  'way !"  said  Joan,  as  complete  moni- 
tor of  the  situation,  and  bending  over  the 
barrel  of  her  choice,  with  abstract  devotion 
to  her  business.  The  brother  and  sister  at- 
tached themselves  to  theirs  less  absorbingly ; 
especially  was  Eleanor's  season  of  dissipa- 
tion brief,  for  the  scampering  of  a  rat  caused 
her  to  drop  her  straw  into  the  irrecoverable 
depths  of  the  barrel  and  fly  up -stairs  for 
safety. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

THE  theologian  appeared  next  day  with  his 
books,  which  he  placed,  without  unstrapping, 
on  the  centre-table,  and  waited  for  Eleanor 
to  suggest  what  to  play.  He  knew  that  she 
would  be  extremely  dignified  as  an  initia- 
tive, and  he  adapted  himself  wholly  to  her 
mood. 

"  Isn't  it  about  time  for  Daniel  to  be  com- 
ing back  ?"  he  said. 

"  Surely,  I  think  so.  I  am  very  anxious 
to  get  back  to  New  York.  I  wish  to  see 
Martha." 

"  Who  is  Martha  ?" 

"  She  is  a  dear  brown  cross  old  angel." 

"  Do  you  keep  her  in  the  house  ?" 

"  Keep  her !  We  do  anything  to  get  her 
to  stay!" 

"  Is  she  too  old  for  me,  do  you  think,  if  by 
good-luck  I  could  get  acquainted  with  her  ?" 

"  She  is  too  sweet  for  you  or  any  man." 

"  I  thought  you  said  she  was  cross." 

197 


THE    MORAL  IMBECILES 

"  I  said  no  such  thing.  She  is  only  de- 
termined. She  has  more  brains  than  you 
and  I  and  grandmamma  and  her  brother — " 

"  Oh,  you  mean  Martha  Sck-ejfer?" 

"  There  isn't  any  other  Martha  that  I  know 
of." 

"  But  I  thought  she  was  after  her  profes- 
sion— doctor.  Daniel  never  told  me.  How 
in  the  world  did  you  get  her  to  come  to 
New  York?" 

"  I  managed  it." 

There  was  so  much  finality  in  Miss  Arun- 
dell's  manner  that  the  youth  took  a  new 
tack. 

"  Shall  I  read  aloud  to  you,  sister  ?" 

Eleanor  broke  down.  "  I  should  think  we 
were  at  the '  testimony '  meeting.  Yes,  you 
may,  please." 

"  I  will  read  « The  Lady  of  Shalott.'  My 
voice  is  sweetest  pitched  at  a  sort  of  minor 
key." 

"  If  you  do  I  will  go  out  to  the  barn  and 
shell  corn." 

"  Well,  Shakespeare's  'Julius  Caesar,'  then. 
The  amaze  is,  to  my  mind,  that,  bending  to 
light  literature  almost  exclusively,  as  you 
do,  this  play  of  war  and  bloodshed,  of  daunt- 

198 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

lessness  in  vanquishment,  of  triumph  in  de- 
feat, should  be,  in  all  profane  literature,  your 
book  of  books,  your  constant  —  your  un- 
wearying companion.  What  is  there  in  it, 
may  I  ask,  that  you  particularly  affect  ?" 

"  I  adore  it  all." 

He  read. 

"  Perhaps  you  have  observed  that  I  am 
getting  hoarse,"  he  remarked,  after  some 
time. 

"  I  thought  it  was  only  the  emotion  you 
ought  to  feel." 

"  Pardon  me  for  intimating  that  any  one 
could  grow  weary  in  reading '  Julius  Caesar.' " 

"Well,  then,  we  will  go  to  the  gymna- 
sium." 

The  gymnasium  was  a  sloping  shed-roof, 
with  a  huge  pile  of  straw  under  the  exalted 
end.  By  a  good  run  over  the  snow -crust, 
these  vigorous  young  people  could  leap  to 
the  roof  at  its  earthward  terminus,  race  up 
its  gradual  slope,  and  descend  as  by  winged 
flight. 

They  seized  Mary  Ann — who  was  feeding 
her  chickens  in  the  course  of  their  track — 
between  them,  and  bore  her  clairvoyantly 
onward  through  every  step  of  the  feat  to 

199 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

its  triumphant  submergence  in  the  billows 
of  straw  beneath. 

"  You're  the  divuls !"  said  she,  with  re- 
turning breath.  "  But  no  more  !  D'ye  hear 
me  sayin'  ?  No  more !  Go  and  get  yer  hay- 
then  Frenchwoman  —  if  'tis  her  I  see,  and 
not  the  cat,  grinnin'  at  the  winda.  She  can 
jump  ye  like  a  hill -goat,  with  no  flesh  to 
her  bones." 

"  Mar'an  is  persuade'  to  romp,"  Joan  en- 
lightened Mrs.  Scheffer ; — "  she  fly  as  a  cow !" 

"  It  is  all  very  unseemly." 

"She  have  such  wil'  spirit  as  if  it  was 
some  fever — perhaps  yell'  fever!  My  dear 
mees  and  the  cure  fly  as  an  angel  1" 

The  cure,  with  cheeks  as  pure  and  bloom- 
ing as  Eleanor's  own,  suddenly  paused ;  ran 
into  the  house  and  got  his  books.  "  I  am 
going,  sister,"  he  said.  "  I  see  a  vision  ad- 
vancing over  the  snowy  plain :  he  will  wish 
to  make  explanations.  I  am  only  a  brother." 

Eleanor  looked,  and  saw  Daniel  in  the 
distance ;  her  eyes  widened  and  darkened. 
The  student,  observing,  still  looked  merrily^ 
but  his  femininely  curved  red  lips  trembled. 
"I  am  only  a  brother,  you  know.  Good- 
bye!" 

200 


THE    MORAL   IMBECILES 

That  wavering  took  both  Eleanor  and 
himself  unawares.  Her  startled  look  fell 
full  on  his  boyish  face,  more  pathetic  for  its 
stanch  struggle  for  unselfish  bravery. 

"  Good-bye !  sister." 

Eleanor,  with  a  solemn  face,  leaned  slowly 
forward  and  kissed  his  girlish  cheek. 

"  That  will  always  be  sacred  to  me,  sister. 
Good-bye!" 

"  She  smacked  him,  begor' !"  gasped  Mary 
Ann,  pausing  in  the  death  rites  of  an  ancient 
fowl,  which  she  intended  palming  off  on 
Joan  as  one  of  her  choicest  chickens.  "  "Well, 
'tis  short  work  the  old  city  missus  '11  make 
o'  his  wooin'." 

"  They  flirt !"  said  Joan,  with  heathen  ap- 
proval; "but,  alas!  madame  shall  wither  at 
him." 

Her  sweet  little  companion  gone — and  yet 
such  a  brave,  good  little  fellow !  —  and  the 
stalwart,  successful  Daniel  coming,  Eleanor 
retired  within  the  shed,  some  deep  compunc- 
tions for  the  sorrowful  contrasts  of  life  bur- 
dening her  heart  and  bringing  the  tears. 

"Why,  Eleanor,  are  you  so  sorry  I  am 
come  back  ?" 

A  downcast  face  ;  no  look,  and  no  answer. 
201 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"  I  have  been  to  New  York,  for  one  thing." 

"Why?" 

"  My  present  success  and  that  assured  for 
the  future  warranted  me  in  going  to  see 
your  grandparents.  Your  grandmother  is 
satisfied.  She  has  invited  me  to  visit  them." 

"I  did  not  know  you  were  so  anxious  to 
make  a  visit  in  New  York.  /  could  have 
invited  you.  How  is  Martha  ?" 

"They  get  telegrams  that  your  brother 
is  improving  daily.  He  was  hurt  —  they 
thought  it  best  not  to  tell  you — he  is  get- 
ting well.  Martha  went  on  to  care  for 
him." 

"  Forrester  hurt !"  Eleanor  leaned  her 
face  against  the  uncomely  shingles  and  sob- 
bed like  a  child. 

"He  is  getting  better,  dearest.  Martha 
went  on  to  care  for  him." 

Eleanor  omitted  the  "dearest"  from  her 
thought. 

"  '  Getting  well.'  '  Martha  went  to  him.' " 
A  scheme — a  tentative  hope — one  of  those 
plans  that  she  trusted  Providence  wholly  to 
elaborate  and  secure  for  her,  seemed  open- 
ing into  fruition.  "'Martha — Forrester.'" 
She  worked  at  a  loose  nail  in  the  wall,  awak- 

202 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

ened  interest  on  her  tear-stained  face,  a  deep 
luminousness  in  her  eyes. 

"  I  have  your  grandmother's  permission  to 
ask  you  to  marry  me,  Eleanor.  I  have  been 
doing  that  by  manner  and  thought,  I  know, 
ever  since  I  knew  you,  but  I  kept  the  words 
till  I  had  the  right." 

Eleanor,  with  simple  disregard  for  con- 
ventionalities, abruptly  picked  her  way  over 
the  straw,  walked  firmly  along  the  path,  and 
disappeared  in  the  house. 

Her  next  advent  into  the  social  circle  dis- 
closed her  with  a  pensive  dignity  of  counte- 
nance, clothed  entirely  in  black ;  even  a  large 
black  bow,  set  very  becomingly,  it  must  be 
confessed,  against  her  shining  coil  of  hair. 

"Mournin',  is  it?"  soliloquized  Mary  Ann. 
"  Well,  'tis  better  to  mourn  for  him  livin', 
than  that  the  old  missus  should  have  a  hand 
at  him !" 

"  She  weep  to-day — but  volatile,  la !"  chat- 
tered to  herself  the  hopeful  Joan.  But 
where  affections  had  evidently  been  so  deep- 
ly engaged  elsewhere,  the  usual  chaperonage 
seemed  unnecessary. 

So  it  chanced  that  Eleanor,  in  black,  was 
gravely  perusing  her  '  Julius  Ca3sar '  by  the 

203 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

very  subdued  rays  of  the  homestead  lamp, 
when  Daniel  marched  into  the  sitting-room, 
stout  cause  for  inquisition  on  his  handsome, 
smiling  face. 

"  Eleanor,  where  is  nty  straw  ?" 

Then  did  Eleanor's  conscious  blushes  con- 
trast most  strangely  with  her  nun-like  ap- 
parel. 

"  It  is  very  easy  to  lose  one's  straw,  I  am 
sure,"  she  remarked,  turning  the  page. 
"  There  are  plenty  more." 

"Eleanor,  however  vague  and  different 
our  ethical  theories  may  be,  we  all  know  the 
punishment  awaiting  those  who  tell  fibs. 
"Where  is  my  straw  ?" 

"  Daniel !"  said  the  moral  imbecile,  at  this, 
lifting  her  eyes  in  absorbing  and  full  con- 
fession— "  a  rat  frightened  me  and  I  dropped 
it  in  the  barrel." 

"  Dropped  in  the  rat,  Eleanor  ?" 

"  The  straw,  Stupid !" 

With  this  apostrophe  she  returned  fear- 
lessly to  her  page. 

Daniel  chuckled  very  softly,  exulted, 
watched  her  with  radiant  eyes,  like  one 
whose  cause  is  already  secure. 

"Eleanor  Arundell,  when  a  girl  steals  a 

204 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

man's  straw  to  drink  cider,  and,  more  than 
that,  when  a  girl  calls  a  man  '  Stupid,'  she 
is  irrevocably  committed  to  him.  Did  you 
know  that?  It  is  a  law  of  nature  and  a 
creed  of  man,  which  have  never  been  con- 
futed." 

"  I  polished  it  well  with  lace  first !"  she 
declared,  haughtily,  staring  at  his  assured 
face  with  dilated  eyes,  like  a  wild  creature 
caught  in  an  ambush. 

"  That  makes  no  difference.  You  had  my 
straw  on  your  lips.  Oh !  but  I  won't  kiss 
you,  though  I've  a  right.  "We're  engaged, 
though — that  is  settled,  Eleanor.  We  are 
engaged." 

Eleanor  herewith  gave  a  sigh  of  relief. 

"  You  are  a  little  glad,  aren't  you  ?"  said  he. 

"  Yes ;  because  of  course  I  should  marry 
sometime,  and  you  are  not  at  all  disagree- 
able." 

"  I  am  very  glad  of  that." 

"  And  one  in  my  position  has  so  much 
trouble,  you  see.  I  was  engaged  once  to  a 
very  disagreeable  man  because  he  was  rich. 
And  now  that  you  are  successful,  grand- 
mamma will  be  satisfied,  and  I  think  I  would 
be  very  foolish  not  to  settle  down  on  this, 
205 


for  who  knows  how  much  trouble  I  might 
have  again  ?" 

"  You  are  an  astonishingly  wise  child. 
And  you  love  me — a  little  ?" 

"Certainly — you  are  so  much  like  Mar- 
tha." 

"  Well,"  groaned  Daniel,  "at  least  you  do 
not  love  any  other  man,  Eleanor  ?" 

"No,"  she  said,  very  candidly,  "except, 
Daniel,  it  might  be  some  one  in  a  perfectly 
brotherly  sort  of  way." 

"  And  I  am  more  than  a  brother  ?" 

"  Yes,"  sadly  admitted  the  moral  imbe- 
cile, "  one  does  not  feel  nearly  so  easy  with 
you  as  with  a  brother." 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

"  GREAT  times,  "Watson !     Great  times !" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Where's  Martha  ?  Oh,  she's  coming  to- 
day !  Forrester  coming !  Ha !  ha ! — great 
times  !  My  little  Kate  coming  !  Eh  ? — what 
— what's  his  name,  "Watson  ?" 

"  Mr.  Daniel  Scheffer,  sir.  Given  so  much 
funds,  cash  down,  sir,  and  an  interest  and 
partnership  in  the  great  manufacturing  firm 
of  Bates  &  "Whittemore,  sir ;  with  other  re- 
sults of  his  mechanical  genius  undoubted- 
ly-" 

"  Oh,  d n  your  Congressional  reports, 

"Watson.     He's  Martha's  brother,  ain't  he  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  "Well,  that's  \vhat  I'm  trying  to  get  at. 
Martha's  brother.  Liked  him  —  very  sensi- 
ble young  man.  Martha's  brother.  Making 
everything  ready,  "Watson  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir ;  certainly,  sir." 
207 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"Where's  Martha?  Who's  at  the  helm, 
Watson  ?" 

"  Mrs.  Arundell,  sir." 

"  Well,  well — spread  your  horns  out  where 
you  can,  Watson  ;  toss  the  blanket  every 
time  you  get  a  chance,  Watson.  What's 
expense  to  us  ?  Make  a  spread  —  make  a 
spread,  Watson.  Have  an  open  fire  in  every 
room  in  the  house — hear  ?  What's  the  first 
dinner  ?" 

"  Little  necks,  sir ;  mock  turtle — " 

"  Confound  your  clam  shells  and  imitation 
vermin,  Watson!  Every  time  I  make  a 
meal  I  have  to  scrabble  through  as  much 
offal  and  turf-weed  as  if  I  was  wadin'  by  the 
seashore.  Have  some  turkeys,  Watson — 
good,  old-fashioned  farm  turkeys — he  !  he ! 
— with  stuffing  and  sage  in  it.  Sage — mind 
that.  .And  onions,  Watson." 

Watson  put  up  a  gentlemanly  white  hand 
to  hide  the  sympathetic  but  embarrassed 
smile  on  his  lips. 

"  Got  down  the  onions,  Watson  ?" 

"  They  were  already  ordered  with  the 
roast,  sir." 

"  Eoast  turkeys  ?" 

"  They  shall  be  substituted,  sir." 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"  No,  no — have  'em  both — have  'em  both, 
Watson." 

"  It  is  noted,  sir." 

"  And  the  '  Perriere  &  Jouet '  brand." 

"  Certainly,  sir." 

"  Mrs.  John  Arundell  invited,  "Watson  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  and  Mr.  John  Arundell,  sir, 
who  is  expected  home  from  abroad." 

"  John  comin'  back  again !  Dear  old  boy ! 
Fine  boy !  Great  times !  happy  times,  Wat- 
son !"  The  old  man's  face  gre\v  exceeding 
soft.  He  tried  to  brace  himself  again  for 
hospitable  forethought.  "Perriere  &  Jouet 
brand,  Watson." 

"  It  is  noted,  sir." 

"  Should  say  it  is !  three  dollars  a  quart, 
by  the  case.  See  here,  Watson — don't  want 
to  offend  Mrs.  John  Arundell — good  woman 
— noble  woman.  Couldn't  ye  mix  up  a  little 
arrow-root,  orange-jelly — something,  for  her 
glass  ?  Too  bad !  but  please  her  better. 
Make  it  the  same  color.  She'll  think  we're 
all  drinkin'  calves'-foot  jelly — make  her  hap- 
pier. Eh,  Watson  ?" 

Watson's  faithful  white  hand  sought  his 
mouth  again.  "  I  think  it  can  be  managed, 
sir.  But  how  shall  we  account  for  the  nat- 
o  209 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

ural   percussion   on   the   expulsion   of   the 
corks,  sir?" 

"  Kever  mind  that,  Watson — never  mind 
that,"  said  the  kind  host,  wearily.  "  We 
want  to  make  everybody  happy,  Watson. 
Sad  world,  crushing  world — rich  or  poor — 
but  happy  world,  too,  when  we  love  folks, 
Watson.  I've  looked  out  for  you — looked 
out  for  'em  all  —  all.  Watson!  —  where's 
Martha  ?" 

"  Permit  me  to  recall  to  you  that  she  is 
speedily  returning,  sir." 

"  Yes — yes — sound  mind,  but  forget,  now 
and  then,  Watson,  that's  all.  Great  times ! 
happy  times!  Made  you  independent,  but 
I  want  you  to  stay  'long  o'  Martha,  Watson, 
just  the  same.  Stay  and  look  out  for  'em, 
and  see  that  they  name  the  first  boy  '  For- 
rester,' just  as  we've  always  done  —  d'ye 
hear?" 

"  Oh,  sir !  God  bless  you,  sir !  But  it's 
you  I'll  serve,  too,  many  a  long  year  yet, 
sir!" 

"  Well,  well — never  mind.    Thinkin',  just 
now,  little  farmer's  girl — knew  long  ago  at 
my  grandfather's  place — his  farmer's  daugh- 
ter ;  you  remember,  Watson  ?" 
210 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"  Sir,  permit  me  to  endeavor  to  recall, 
sir—" 

"  Beauty — good — died ;  died,  "Watson,  long 
ago.  Used  to  draw  water  together  with  the 
old  well-sweep — she  and  I.  So — "  With  a 
smile  he  slowly  made  the  gesture  of  the 
sweep.  "  I  want  some  of  it,  "Watson  !"  said 
he,  suddenly  looking  up,  with  a  childish, 
querulous,  pleading  voice.  "  I  want  some 
of  that  water !" 

"  It  shall  be  procured,  sir." 

"  I  want  it  right  from  the  spring !  tired 
of  wine — tired  of  these  bottled  things — want 
to  go  back  there  and  drink!  youth — life — 
want  to  drink  from  the  spring  again,  "Wat- 
son! 

"What  did  He  say?— he  that  drinketh 
this — never  thirst — never  thirst — that's  it! 
Watson.  Clearest  mountains  in  the  world 
there,  Watson.  Gates  used  to  open,  top  of 
'em,  at  sunset.  Saw  some  angels  swingin' 
there  once — she  and  I !  Smile  away !  but, 
fact,  Watson  —  always  remembered  that ! 
Want  to  go  back  there  and  drink  from  the 
spring.  Watson !  where's  Martha  ?" 

"  They  are  expected  this  evening,  sir." 

But  even  as  Watson  spoke  the  words,  he 
211 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

sprang  forward  to  his  master,  who  had  be- 
come unconscious  of  his  presence,  drooping 
more  heavily  than  usual.  Not  the  Arundell 
sleep,  nor,  quite  yet,  the  last  sleep  of  this 
gentle-hearted  Arundell. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

Bur  when  I  entered  the  mansion  that  night 
it  was  not  to  the  buoyant  festivity  planned 
for  us  by  our  loving  host. 

"  Another  sorrow  upon  us.  My  poor  hus- 
band is  stricken,"  said  Madam  Arundell, 
meeting  us  in  the  hall  with  her  perfectly 
hard  and  hopeless  face.  She  kissed  her  grand- 
son, taking  his  thin  hand.  I  felt  his  clutch 
on  my  arm,  like  a  child  making  sure  of  its 
mother  in  a  strange  place. 

Eleanor  appeared  from  another  quarter, 
and  laid  her  face  against  Forrester's,  and 
then  his  clutch  loosened  a  little,  as  though 
it  was  not  quite  so  strange. 

Then  she  sprang  to  me  and  clung  to  me, 
sobbing.  My  efforts  to  maintain  compo- 
sure amid  these  scenes  might  have  failed 
but  for  the  timely  appearance  of  Watson, 
displaying  a  joy  and  tenderness  over  Forres- 
ter that  he  could  hardly  keep  within  proper 
bounds. 

213 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"Let  me  remove  your  top-coat,  sir,"  he 
said  by  way  of  excuse,  in  a  trembling  voice, 
and  now  first  Forrester  ventured  to  let  go 
of  me  wholly,  and  the  old  servant's  hands 
were  clasped  in  both  his. 

"  God  bless  you !  Watson.  I'm  so  glad 
to  see  you  !  You're  growing  young,  Watson ! 
You're  growing  young !" 

"  God  bless  you,  sir  !"  said  Watson,  devoid 
of  long  words  on  this  occasion,  the  tears 
actually  streaming  down  his  face.  "  Thank 
you,  sir !  God  bless  you,  sir !  Take  this 
large  chair.  Shall  I  get  a  hassock  for  your 
feet,  sir?  Your  rooms  are  prepared,  sir. 
How  can  I  serve  you,  sir  ?" 

"  Watson !"  said  Madam  Arundell,  severe- 
ly, "  Mr.  Arundell  is  not  a  child." 

"Yery  near  it,  grandmother,"  said  For- 
rester, still  rather  hoarsely,  lifting  his  pleas- 
ant, worn  face  to  her,  and  sinking  back  in 
the  chair  gratefully. 

"Watson!"  continued  Madam  Arundell, 
glancing  back  into  the  hall — "  you  are  crush- 
ing Mr.  Arundell's  hat  into  the  drawer  in- 
stead of  hanging  it  upon  the  rack !" 

"  That,  mum,  if  you  plase,  mum,"  Wat- 
son ventured  to  affirm  a  trifle  mirthfully,  in 
214 


THE   MORAL    IMBECILES 

his  joyful  eagerness,  "is  to  make  sure  of 
his  continuing  at  his  home,  mum,  instead  of 
ever  running  away  and  leaving  us  in  despair, 
mum." 

And  Forrester's  kind  and  merry  glance 
dwelt  full  on  him,  his  white  teeth  gleaming 
naturally. 

"You  are  decidedly  flustered,  I  think, 
Watson,"  observed  madam,  contemptuously. 

Meanwhile  Eleanor  had  drawn  me  to  one 
side,  and  had  my  ear. 

"  I  am  engaged  to  Daniel !" 

"  What  nonsense  !  Let  me  hear  no  more 
of  this." 

"And  grandmamma  consents.  He  has 
been  very  fortunate,  you  know." 

"  I  did  not  know.     Well— so  that  is  it  ?" 

"Your  eyes  look  as  though  they  were 
reading  me,  Martha.  What  do  you  see  ?" 

"  I  see  that  we  do  not  very  well  plan  our 
lives — that  they  are  simply  and  comprehen- 
sively guided  for  us." 

"  Of  course,  Martha  —  I  always  knew 
that." 

"You  have  a  wisdom,  then,  dear,  that  is 
better  than  wisdom,"  said  I,  with  a  sigh. 
"  Do  you  understand  ?" 

215 


"And  grandmamma  invited  Daniel  to  re- 
turn with  us  and  visit  her.  And  he  is 
coming  very,  very  soon.  And  I  shall  be  in 
your  family  now — that  is  the  best  of  it.  I 
shall  be  your  sister,  and  you'll  have  a  respon- 
sibility of  me — a  great  responsibility  of  me, 
dearest." 

"  Eleanor,"  said  Madam  Arundell,  feeling 
rather  left  out  in  the  cold,  "  are  you  telling 
Miss  Scheffer  of  your  engagement  to  her 
brother?" 

"  Yes,  grandmmama." 

A  look  of  pleasure  and  interest  shone  on 
Forrester's  face ;  then  he  turned  full  to  his 
grandmother,  his  frank  eyes  never  flinching, 
even  without  the  support  of  my  arm. 

"  I  am  engaged,  too,  grandmother.  I  am 
a  happy  man.  I  loved  Martha  from  the 
very  first.  I  had  hard  work  getting  her  to 
think  of  me,  grandmother.  Those  who 
know  her  wonder  she  could  take  up  with 
me.  I  think  if  it  had  not  been  for  that  ac- 
cident— that  seemed  such  a  hard  thing — I 
might  never  have  had  this  best  thing.  But 
I  love  her  so  dearly,  I  do  not  care — if  it  is 
pity." 

"  Martha  Scheffer  engaged  to  you  /"  said 
216 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

his  grandmother,  with  a  cruel,  almost  un- 
conscious accent  of  wonder. 

Forrester  faced  her  with  direct  eyes,  but 
his  lips  trembled. 

"  I  said  it  was  from  pity,"  said  he,  very 
gently. 

"  No  —  but  I  can  never  admit  that !"  I 
said,  going  over  to  him,  and  lifting  the  hair 
from  his  forehead,  still  pale  and  damp  from 
weakness.  "  I  love  your  grandson,  Mrs. 
Arundell,  and  am  ready  to  take  up  life's 
struggle  with  him  anywhere." 

"  There  shall  be  no  struggle !"  declared 
Madam  Arundell,  with  a  toss  of  her  head. 
"  I  am  rejoiced  at  the  thought  of  having 
dear  Miss  Scheffer  —  Martha  —  in  this  rela- 
tion. And  certainly  I  congratulate  you,  with 
all  justice,  Forrester  !  Providence  seems  to 
have  a  peculiar  predilection  for  those  not  al- 
ways so  endowed  as  they  might  be,  perhaps, 
in  regard  to  managing  for  themselves.  Do 
you  know  that  Beeman  Price  has  offered  her 
his  hand  ?" 

"  I  hope  it  was  cleaner  than  it  used  to  be," 
said  Forrester,  with  a  smart  flush,  setting 
his  teeth. 

"  You  have  a  very  irritable  boy  to  man- 
'217 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

age,  Martha,  you  see !"  said  madam,  now 
very  sweetly.  "  What  do  you  think  of  this 
engagement,  Eleanor?" 

"I  planned  it — I  mean,  I've  trusted  and 
prayed  for  it  for  a  long,  long  time,"  replied 
this  moral  imbecile,  with  a  dignity  most  com- 
posed and  gracious. 

Madam  flushed  slightly,  and  shot  a  quick 
glance  of  surprise  at  her,  as  well  as  at  the 
steady  countenance  of  her  other  ethically  in- 
capable one — who,  at  least,  had  voluntarily 
offered  his  life  to  save  that  of  another. 

"  What  do  you  think,  Martha  ?"  said  she. 
"  I  dare  not  draw  a  lesson  from  this  irre- 
sponsibility, which,  seems  to  have  had  such 
charming  results.  Perhaps  a  safe  thought 
is  in  '  The  birds  of  the  air,  and  the  lilies  of 
the  field,'  "  she  concluded,  rapidly  and  pious- 
ly, with  vague  consideration. 

"JT  was  rather  a  crow,  grandmother,"  said 
Forrester,  "  but  if  you  love  people  better 
than  yourself — I  mean  Martha  " — [his  act  of 
self-sacrifice  never  entered  his  memory] — "  I 
think  God  gets  a  hand  at  you,  and  goes  to 
whitewashing !" 

Eleanor  giggled  rapturously. 

"At  least,  let  us  not  turn  this  incompre- 

218 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

hensible  act  of  mercy  and  forbearance  into 
mirth,"  said  our  hostess.  "  We  will  dine, 
and  then  I  think  it  best  that  Martha,  alone 
of  you,  should  enter  the  room  of  my  poor 
stricken  husband." 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

THIS  sentiment  saturated  the  atmosphere 
again  with  a  deep  gloom. 

But  when  I  went  in  to  see  my  host  the 
cloud  instantly  lifted. 

"John,  this  is  Martha  —  my  daughter 
Martha." 

A  man,  the  counterpart  of  what  my  host 
might  have  been  in  health,  rose  from  the 
bedside  and  met  me  with  a  smile. 

"Why— kiss  her!  John." 

So  in  this  fashion  we  very  simply  and 
naturally  saluted  each  other. 

"  Martha,"  said  my  host,  holding  my  hand 
— "  knew  you'd  come  home,  Martha,  soon  as 
you  could.  Yery  hard  without  you.  Old 
ship  reeled  and  bumped.  Great  times,  now ! 
happy  times  !  Bring  in  Forrester — bring  in 
my  little  girl." 

"  My  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Arundell,  in  a  voice 
suggestive  of  the  solicitude  and  kindness  of 
the  tomb — "  you  must  not  excite  yourself." 

220 


"Nonsense,  Laura !  I'm  windin'  up  affairs. 
Goin'  to  do  it,  too  !  Bring  'em  in,  Martha." 

I  felt  my  host's  pulse ;  it  was  the  gentle 
tottering  of  the  citadel  to  its  fall.  "  I  think 
it  is  best.  It  can  do  him  no  harm,"  I  said. 
"  Is  it  not  so,  Doctor  Latimer  ?" 

The  latter  stood  leaning  beside  a  window, 
the  sincerest  expression  of  sympathy  and 
sorrow  on  his  face  that  I  had  ever  seen 
there. 

"  Certainly  it  can  do  him  no  harm,"  he 
said. 

So  the  two  were  brought  in.  The  grand- 
father put  a  hand  in  that  of  each,  and  looked 
upward,  much  as  Forrester  had  done  on  his 
sick-bed,  gratefully  and  trustfully  murmur- 
ing. But  the  guardian  thought  in  his  soul 
recalled  him. 

"Martha — perfectly  sound  mind — but  I 
forget — forget.  You  and  Forrester  engaged 
— yes — long  time — but  married?  eh? — I  just 
forget." 

"  No." 

"  Dearest,"  interrupted  Mrs.  Arundell,  sol- 
emnly— who  had  discerned  from  my  words 
and  Doctor  Latimer's  that  the  end  might 
come  at  any  time,  and  had  sent  with  ex- 

221 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

Deeding  haste  for  her  clergyman  — "  would 
you  not  like  to  see  Doctor  Bod  well  ?  I  heard 
the  bell  ring,  and  I  think  he  is  below." 

"  Certainly !"  said  our  host,  with  unex- 
pected animation ;  "  Laura — always  keen — 
always  to  the  point.  Great  times,  now! 
happy  times !  Good  wife — dear  wife." 

But  when  the  reverend  gentleman  entered 
we  were  astounded. 

"  Here  you  are,  doctor !  How  d'  do  ?  Get 
a  gait  on — excuse  me,  dear  old  friend — he  ! 
he! — but  the  old  ship's  sinking,  you  know. 
Doctor  ! — Martha — Forrester.  Stand  there  ! 
"We're  gettin'  home,  you  see.  There  !  Yes, 
stand  there  !  Marry  them,  doctor." 

Doctor  Bod  well  regarded  the  group  with 
a  blankly  questioning  gaze. 

"  Witnesses  enough  !"  said  the  dying  gen- 
eral, with  authority.  "  Come !" 

Forrester  and  I  stood  beside  the  bed  where 
he  bade  us.  The  clergyman  married  us. 

"  Where's  —  where's  —  where's  Martha's 
brother  ?" 

"He  will  come  soon,  grandpapa."  Elea- 
nor— the  inspired — kissed  him,  in  as  natural 
and  happy  a  manner  as  though  no  ghostly 
guest  stood  among  us. 

222 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"Well,  little  girl  — little  girl  — Martha- 
oldest  sister  '11  arrange  your  wedding.  Leave 
it  all  with  Martha.  Good  old  north-country 
stock  —  Martha  —  Martha's  brother.  Goin' 
to  have  some  brains  in  the  family  now! 
Money  enough — handsome  'nough  —  gettin' 
little  reduced  on  brains — never  mind.  Leave 
it  all  with  Martha. 

"  John ! 

"Now — the  'will'! — legally  drawn — plen- 
ty to  sign :  sound  mind,  John.  Forget 
now  and  then — but  all  right?  All  right, 
John  ?" 

"It  is  all  right,  brother,"  replied  John 
Arundell,  with  his  gentle,  reassuring  smile. 
"  Doctor  Bodwell,  will  you  read  this  docu- 
ment aloud  ?  It  will  soothe,  rather  than  dis- 
turb, my  brother." 

The  spiritual  consoler  read  the  worldly 
document,  and  he  and  Doctor  Latimer  af- 
fixed their  names  thereto. 

My  host  sighed  like  a  laborer  getting  tow- 
ards contented  rest. 

"  And  now,  dearest,"  said  Mrs.  Arundell, 
a  desperately  grave  necessity  burdening  her 
close  lips,  "  will  you  not  let  Doctor  Bodwell 
talk  with  yon  ?" 

223 


"  Why,  yes,  yes— like  to  talk  with  Doctor 
Bodwell — but  rather  used  up." 

"  About  your  soul,  Forrester  ?" 

The  old  gentleman  rallied  his  forces. 

"Guess  we  think  alike,  Laura  —  Doctor 
and  I  —  always  have  —  talked  a  good  deal 
with  Doctor  Bodwell — think  alike. 

"  God  our  Father  —  Christians  lookin'  at 
other  Christians  and  thinkin', '  Well,  I  know 
he's  mine,  but  ain't  so  sure  about  you !' 
God  our  Father  —  children  like  their  fa- 
ther, ain't  they?  law  of  nature  —  law  of 
God.  But  go  to  actin'  it  —  charity  —  love 
—  Christian  relations  put  you  in  a  mad- 
house !" 

Madam  ArundelPs  face  went  shocked  and 
white  at  these  benighted  ravings. 

"  God  our  Father :  children  like  their  father, 
ain't  they  ?  dare  to  say  so — ought  to  say  so 
— ought  to  act  so.  But  Christians  sayin', 
'  Don't  look  at  me !  Don't  look  one  bit  at 
me !  look  at  God.  Don't  look  at  my  ac- 
tions— won't  bear  lookin'  at;  look  only  at 
God.'  All  wrong !" 

Madam  Arundell,  so  afflicted  by  these 
strange  vagaries,  yet  stood  silent  with  the 
rest. 

224 


"  Children  like  their  father,  ain't  they  ?" 
said  my  host  again,  very  pleasantly. 

"Jesus  Christ  knew  the  way — I  always 
loved  Him  ;  didn't  say,  '  Don't  look  at  Me' ! 
stood  up  and  said,  '  Yes,  look !  I'm  like  my 
Father — like  our  Father — you  be  like  Him, 
too.'  Didn't  say, 'Don't  look  at  Me'!  Stood 
up  and  said,  '  Behold !  all  ye  weary — yes — 
like  our  Father !  Trust  Me !  Come  to  Me !' 
I'm  goin'  to  Him,  too !" 

There  was  such  simplicity  of  resolve  in 
this  laboring  pilgrim's  voice  that  Madam 
Arundell  recovered  herself,  conscientiously. 

"  Doctor  Bodwell,  will  you  not  pray  for 
him?" 

"Madam,"  said  the  great  divine,  with  a 
shaking  voice,  "I  would  rather  need  pray 
for  myself.  This  child  sees  the  way  home, 
madam — never  fear !" 

"Always  thought  alike,  Laura  —  Doctor 
and  I.  Lots  of  talks. 

"  Children  like  their  father,  ain't  they  ?" 
he  murmured  presently,  softly,  and  with  un- 
conscious repetition.  "  Always  loved  Him. 
Stumbled  a  long  way  —  forgive — and  He 
stood  up  and  said,  '  Yes,  look ! — like  Him  ! 
Trust  Me!  Come  to  Me!'  Goin' to  Him,  too ! 
p  225 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"  Martha !    Where's  Martha  ?" 

I  went  to  his  pillow,  and,  holding  him, 
pressed  my  cheek  to  his:  his  hand,  desper- 
ately clinging,  sank  in  soft  peace  in  mine. 

"  Stood  up  — '  Look !' "  With  that  word 
my  host's  laboring  speech  was  changed  to 
vision,  even  of  the  Compassionate,  Himself ! 
— and  he  went  to  Him. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

"Mr  last  injunctions  from  my  beloved 
master,  mum,  was  to  accilerate  the  joys  of 
the  youth  of  the  family,  mum.  Shall  I  pro- 
ceed to  do  so,  mum  ?" 

"  With  caution,  "Watson  ;  as  I  called  you 
particularly  to  say,  I  would  rather  you  should 
incline  to  the  commands  of  Mrs.  Forrester 
Arundell,  Junior.  My  precious  Eleanor  is  so 
extravagant." 

"  Mrs.  Forrester  Arundell,  Junior's,  com- 
mands for  Miss  Eleanor's  wedding  far  ex- 
ceed Miss  Eleanor's  own,  mum.  She  aims 
to  plase  my  beloved  master  and  follow  his 
wishes,  mum  ;  a  suprame  elegance,  yet  very 
quiet,  mum,  befitting  our  mourning  condi- 
tion, mum." 

"  I  hope,  Watson,  that  Mrs.  Forrester 
Arundell,  Junior,  will  not  take  on  too  in- 
dulgent a  temperament." 

"  Ah,  mum !  you  address  me  as  a  servant 
long  with  you,  mum.  Permit  me  to  reply 

227 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

in  a  similar  strain,  mum.  If,  by  a  little 
sympathy  and  indulgence,  we  can  kape  the 
lambs  in  the  fold,  mum." 

"  Are  you  not  growing  rather  sentimental, 
Watson  ?" 

"  Watson  sentimental !"  A  cheerful  voice, 
of  the  kindest  modulation,  arose  from  the 
other  end  of  the  hall,  where  John  Arundell 
had  just  entered.  "  Pardon  me,  Laura — but 
Watson  sentimental !  Then  he  is  a  good 
man,  as  I  always  knew.  All  good  men  are 
sentimental." 

"  Ah,  but  you — "  said  Madam  Arundell, 
quitting  her  emotional  servant,  and  drawing 
her  brother,  with  quite  a  sprightly  manner, 
into  one  of  the  great  parlors — "  how  can  you 
call  yourself  so,  when  you  are  continually 
deserting  us  for  your  wild  travel — travel — 
travel  ?" 

"  Ah,  but  that  only  fills  me  with  ten- 
derer sentiment  for  the  dear  ones  at 
home !" 

"How  can  Augusta  bear  your  long  ab- 
sences ?" 

"  My  Augusta  is  a  saint,  and  she  has  end- 
less compassion  for  my  weak  lung.  Since 
that  requires  California  and  Italy,  she  even 

228 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

prescribes  California  and  Italy.     Oh,  she  is 
perfect !" 

It  had  been  one  of  the  untiring  efforts  of 
Madam  Arundell's  long  life  to  make  John 
Arundell  say  that  he  did  not  like  an  atmos- 
phere of  leaflets,  and  that  his  town  house 
was  cold.  But  she  had  never  accomplished 
this,  and  she  never  would.  He  smiled  softly 
and  unconsciously  at  her,  and  he  was  abso- 
lutely and  eternally  true. 

"  And  are  you  drinking  ginger  -  beer  as 
usual  ?"  said  she,  a  little  exasperated. 

"  No ;  but  would  to  Heaven  I  had  never 
taken  anything  stronger  !  I  should  not  have 
such  a  crying  woe  in  my  right  leg  every  now 
and  then,  I  believe,  Laura." 

"  You  are  very  charitable,  John." 

"  To  whom,  pray  ?" 

"Oh,  generally  speaking." 

"  "Well,  I  believe  I  am  not '  near ' — as  *  Un- 
cle Zeb'  used  to  have  it.  No  —  no  right- 
minded  Arundell  was  ever  '  near.'  " 

The  batteries  had  recoiled  on  the  attack- 
ing force  itself. 

"  Great  fortunes  evaporate  if  not  carefully 
manipulated,  John." 

«  Let  'em !" 

229 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"Ah,  you  remind  me  so  at  times  of  poor 
Forrester." 

"  Thank  God  for  that !" 

He  was  an  inestimably  true  old  man,  this. 
"When  leaflets  raged  furiously  and  the  win- 
try air  grew  chill,  he  embraced  his  wife  with 
tearful  tenderness  and  fled.  Owning  to  no 
multiplicity  of  oral  or  printed  lectures,  to  no 
frigidity  of  temperature ;  owning  only,  in 
his  sweetness,  to  a  left  lung — which  the  an- 
gels in  heaven  alone,  meanwhile,  knew  to 
be  perfectly  sound. 

It  is  by  no  means  a  bitter  reflection  on  an 
imaginary  character,  it  is  a  fact  concerning 
literal  human  nature,  that  Madam  Arundell 
was  accustomed  to  say,  in  tender  comments 
on  the  departed,  "  It  is  well,  however,  to 
make  one's  assured  peace  with  God." 

"  Grandmother,"  said  I,  at  length,  ever 
maintaining  my  character  as  undismayed 
snap-dragon  of  the  family,  "  never  was  it 
made  more  assured.  Look  deeper  in  your 
own  heart,  dear,  and  see  if  yours  is  as  child- 
like, according  to  the  commandment,  and  as 
confident." 

"  So  you  think  me  self-righteous  ?"  said 
she,  not  without  a  tinge  of  venom. 

330 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"  Yes,  dear  grandmother,  and  so  am  I. 
And  we  must  fight  this,  you  and  I." 

She  stared  at  me  for  an  instant  as  an 
anomaly,  though  she  should  have  been  used 
to  me  by  this  time.  Then  that  rare  soften- 
ing of  tears  came  to  her  eyes. 

For  my  Grandmother  Arundell  was  a  char- 
acter that  could  tread  on  you  very  ruthless- 
ly, gathering  in  the  world,  in  the  spirit  of 
certain  conquerors  of  old ;  but  if  you  seized 
lance  and  shield  and  faced  her,  she  recog- 
nized an  instant  equality ;  and  if  you  were 
even  fierce  enough,  she  would  twine  her 
arms  about  your  neck  and  quite  adore  you. 

"  Martha,"  said  she,  "  I  confess  that  often 
it  all  looks  to  me  very  dark  and  even  uncer- 
tain. What  shall  we  do  then  ?" 

"  In  the  first  place,  we  must  not  threaten 
any  creature  of  God  with  moral  imbecility." 

"  But,  Martha,  we  shall  spoil  people." 

"  But,  grandmother,  if  Christ  had  pro- 
nounced the  world  morally  imbecile,  and 
left  it  with  cold  scorn,  what  then  ?  Was  not 
His  charity  like  the  ocean?  Was  not  His 
love  like  the  sea  ?  Not  so  much  a  trait  of 
character  as  the  element  He  swam  in  ?" 

"  But,  Martha,  we  shall  go  too  far." 
331 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"  We  shall  never  go  too  far,  grandmoth- 
er—  you  and  I.  "Would  that  we  might! 
And  we  must  humble  ourselves,  it  is  said, 
more  like  unto  children." 

"  You  say  that,  my  beloved  Martha,  and 
you  are  absolutely  autocratic  !" 

"  Oh,  but,  grandmother,  that  is  a  snare  and 
a  delusion.  I  have  a  heart  good  for  noth- 
ing. It  is  soft  as  putty." 

"  And  you  think  mine  hard  ?" 

"  Never  any  more,  grandmother." 

Grandaunt  Augusta,  on  the  contrary,  hav- 
ing distributed  her  latest  essays  on  virtue 
and  temperance  among  us,  was  accustomed 
to  speak  lovingly  of  "  Dear  John's  account 
of  dear  Forrester's  triumphant  release." 

Madam  Arundell  had  been  wont  to  sigh. 
Now,  said  she,  at  last,  more  like  a  child 
repeating  a  text  than  with  any  conscious 
acceptance  of  it : 

"  Yes,  Augusta,  I  think  it  was  so  !  I  am 
sure  it  was  so." 

Yet  I  had  her — I  had  her  as  a  child  pull- 
ing at  my  gown ;  and  with  whatever  com- 
prehension I  had,  other  than  hers,  I  taught 
her ;  and  ever,  with  all  tenderness  and  respect, 
I  was  master,  as  there  was  need  I  should  be. 

232 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

And  now  Grandaunt  Augusta,  though  ever 
steadfastly  fighting  the  Evil  One  in  large  and 
copious  efforts,  congratulated  herself  with 
complacency  on  events  in  her  own  family. 

"  I  always  knew  dear  Eleanor  would  choose 
wisely,"  she  remarked  to  me.  "  I  have  had 
deep  anxieties  about  Forrester,  but  precious 
Eleanor's  judgment  has  always  been  unerr- 
ing." 

I  digested  this  in  silence,  and  then  re- 
marked casually,  "Are  you  not  anxious  about 
Forrester  still  ?" 

"Ah,  my  child!" — her  large  countenance 
beamed—"  here  are  you,  at  last,  fishing  for  a 
compliment !"  But  none  could  take  offence 
at  such  a  face.  "  No,  Martha — no.  I  am 
not  anxious  about  Forrester.  Slight  as  the 
difference  is  in  your  years,  I  look  at  Forres- 
ter, my  dear,  as  restored  to  the  arms  of  a 
mother !" 

I  laughed  outright ;  but  Grandaunt  Au- 
gusta had  had  her  brief  time  at  laughter, 
and  now  only  smiled  indulgently. 

"  But  I  never  set  him  at  good  books,  Aunt 
Augusta,  and  I  never  talk  with  him  about 
his — moral  condition." 

"  "We  labor  according  to  our  lights,  my 
233 


child,"  said  she,  with  calm  satisfaction.  "And 
I  have  observed,  Martha,  that,  under  a  crust 
of  worldly  severity  and  indifference,  you 
are  inclined  none  the  less  to  be  a  spiritual 
nurse." 

I  gazed  at  her,  biting  my  lips  to  conceal 
further  mirth.  She  lifted  her  finger  and  shook 
her  head  at  me. 

"  When  will  you  be  lecturing  me  ?"  she 
said. 

I  blushed.  "  Never !"  I  cried,  with  start- 
ing tears.  "  Why  do  you  think  so  ill  of 
me?" 

"  Martha,  I  struggle  for  light,  but  I  am 
an  old  lady,  rather  indurate  in  old  ways, 
perhaps.  And,  Martha,  I  have  always,  from 
babyhood,  been  cradled  in  luxury.  You  young 
eagles,  thrown  off  the  high  ledges  to  sink  or 
fly,  is  it  strange  if  you  had,  at  least,  a  broad- 
er outlook — " 

I  threw  my  arms  about  her  neck.  I  was 
not  naturally  demonstrative,  and  few,  if  any, 
were  ever  demonstrative  with  her,  in  spite 
of  her  conventionally  caressing  manner.  She 
kissed  me  with  an  eager  naturalness,  pale 
of  face.  "What  we  lack,"  she  murmured, 
"  God  forgives.  Do  you  not  think  so  ?" 

234 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"  All  my  hope  for  my  own  poor  heart  and 
life  is  based  on  that,  Aunt  Augusta." 

Tugging  at  my  gown — my  brave  husband, 
for  instance,  stalwart  and  merry  now,  as  ever, 
but  an  Arundell,  inconsequent  and  childish. 

Disliking  "  receptions,"  and  accompanying 
me  with  sublime  sincerity  of  discountenance 
to  those  given  in  our  honor,  I  remember 
how  a  most  beautiful  girl,  who  had  known 
him  of  old,  waylaid  him  amid  the  throng, 
with  the  brightest  eyes,  with  smiles,  with 
dimples,  with  captivating  words  and  capti- 
vating laughter.  The  Arundells  have  a  naive 
trick  of  simply  turning  away  from  whatever 
dissatisfies  or  bores  them.  I  was  conversing 
with  a  physician  of  celebrity  and  deeply  in- 
terested in  his  words,  when  I  saw  my  large 
husband  turn  away  from  this  siren  and  saun- 
ter over  to  me,  and,  finding  me  engaged,  I 
was  conscious  that  he  had  literally  taken 
hold  of  a  fold  of  my  dress,  and  thus  stood 
unconscious  and  unblushing. 

"  My  dear  Booby  !"  I  turned  aside  to  whis- 
per to  him,  "  go  over  and  talk  to  that  beau- 
tiful girl !  She  is  scandalized  at  your  rude- 
ness !" 

335 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

"  I  won't,  Martha !  You  are  my  wife. 
I've  a  right  to  stand  by  you  and  show  3Tou 
off!" 

Show  me  off ! — but  thus  much  cause  have 
I  ever  had  for  jealousy  ! 

But  when  we  take  our  walks  abroad 
together,  then  are  we  a  scandal  and  a  men- 
ace to  all  good  principles  of  organized  char- 
ity. Nothing  of  poverty,  of  misery,  of 
deformity,  can  Forrester  pass  but  it  is  our 
concern. 

"]STo;  but,  any  way,  the  old  woman's  shawl 
is  too  thin,  Martha ;  and  look  at  her  feet ! — 
and  old ! 

"  But  you  can  see  his  leg  is  off,  Martha — 
no  sham,  about  that.  And  see  his  hands,  all 
twisted  and  numb ! 

"  Oh,  but,  Martha — a  child  shivering  like 
that!" 

And  I,  though  sapient  in  worldly  philoso- 
phy, follow  him  blindly  in  evil  doing;  for  we 
have  great  wealth,  and  though  we  should  be 
kind  to  a  miscreant  now  and  then,  I  think 
that  were  better  than  to  walk  stonily  and 
heedlessly  along  a  path  of  such  sorrowful 
seeming. 

And  if  there  is  a  hunchback  or  one  lame 

236 


THE    MORAL    IMBECILES 

or  otherwise  afflicted  in  our  course,  then  my 
husband's  own  free  stride  almost  goes  lame 
itself  and  his  tali  head  sinks.  "  It  might  so 
easily  be  us,  Martha.  It  is  just  the  same — 
it  is  one  of  us."  Such  reverence  for  sorrow 
is  in  him.  And  I  remember  how  he  once 
threw  his  own  strong  life  into  the  balance 
for  humanity,  and  am  not  dismayed  because 
his  creed  is  a  crudely  simple  one. 

And  the  children ! — Eleanor's  and  mine. 

"  The  family  name  is  certainly  secure, 
mum,"  says  Watson,  nobly,  and  without  sar- 
casm ;  "  indubbitably  secure,  mum,  thank 
God  !  mum  —  safe  against  all  contiguities, 
mum." 

"It  bates  Irelan',"  says  Mary  Ann — at 
least,  I  heard  that  she  said  so.  "  It  bates 
the  domesthic  incrase  in  me  own  sad  coun- 
thry,  begor!  Thank  God  they  come  but 
wan  to  a  time!" 

"  We  shall  have  some  brains  in  the  family 
now,"  my  dear  old  host  had  chuckled,  and 
though  this  prophecy  may  not  have  been 
signally  justified  in  the  event,  yet  they  are 
very  beautiful,  they  are  very  healthy,  and, 
above  all,  they  are  tender — "  tender-hearted, 
loving  one  another." 

237 


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